


Blessed are the Peacemakers

by Zeragii



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: A lot of false techno babble, Abuse, Alternate Realities, Choking, Fake Science, Fallen World, Manhandling, Mention of torture, Needles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, Science Experiments, Strained family relationships, Talk of Multiverse Theory, Talk of Unethical Experimentation, Tension, Threats of Violence, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-11-23 21:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 30,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20896619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeragii/pseuds/Zeragii
Summary: Their world was steadily rotting away, a staggering society destroying itself from the inside like a disease; a mere dark shadow of the good world it might have been in another time. Another life. Another existence.Desperation is a dogged motivator, and it can push even those few who struggle to maintain their floundering morals to the very brink.





	1. Desperate Remedies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dyonisia96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyonisia96/gifts).

> Yes, again I realize I already have a lot going on, and am already in the midst of working on my Undertale fanfiction War crimes (and others) but I have found that I work better when I have options to choose from. From one day to the next, my motivations swing back and forth, and instead of having just one story to focus all my attention on, I do better with multiple. That being said, here is Blessed Are the Peacemakers! <3

The deep, humid labyrinths of the true lab were a dark, damp, and depressingly dreary place; smelling of sweat, gore, and fine, dingy dust. It was almost as though the very air contained the remains of the deceased, their silty particles mixed in with the must and mold of the ages. Decay and erosion were characteristics of time and wear, the metal walls streaked with lines of dark, scratchy rust, almost looking like blood the way it tracked downward, pooling in powdery piles along the cracks where the walls met the floor. It smelled of heavy copper residue, a thick, metallic scent that dried up the throat and stung the eyes. The long corridors were utterly silent, a void without sound or perception, wherein lurked things better left to the fabric of horror and fiction. There was no light to see by, no lamps nor bulbs, and the floor plating sported large, jagged tears like fanged maws, left to disrepair over the years and never bothered to be fixed, even now that the labs had fallen again into use. If you didn't want to trip or fall through and kill yourself on the sharp edges, you had to have the foresight to bring a flashlight, or else navigate by the glow of your own magic. The added weight of the first option was annoying; the second was just plain exhausting, and so the only logical solution to the whole dilemma, typically, was to never visit the labs at all.

_Typically_.

But life didn't always work out that way. Some places couldn't just be _avoided_. Sometimes circumstances didn't follow the course they were intended to, and you were left with the short end of the stick, a sour stomach, and nerves wound so tight they were ready to snap in half.

Sans could relate.

The ambling skeleton had promised himself a long time ago that he would never set foot into the labs again. He had sworn that he would rather die; that he'd have to be dusted and carried there in a jar before he'd allow even one of his sneakered feet to cross that dreaded threshold. And yet here he was, shakily making his way through the deathtrap of his nightmares with only the glow of his brother's red magic to light the way. If he'd had blood, it would be boiling. If he'd had a stomach, it would have been churning. And if he'd had even an ounce of common sense, he would have turned right around and walked back, to hell with the consequences. But Sans had never had any of those things, common sense least of all. And so he followed, grudgingly, and tried to keep the slight rattle of his bones as inaudible as possible.

He was a pathetic contrast to his brother. Boss was a statue of solid intimidation and fearlessness, the very essence of a true monster. He trudged forward into the dark, leading the way without a second thought. His LV crackled just below the surface, a warning to any hidden foes that he was dangerous and alert. A killer on two, rail-thin legs. Sans both admired him, and feared him. Brothers though they were, the connection of family had long since severed, leaving their relationship strained and course. There had been a time when Sans had been the one giving orders, deciding their lives' path day to day. That had come to an end the moment his brother had surpassed him in both height and strength. Sans hadn't been convinced in the beginning, foolishly putting up a fight to remain the dominant in the family. He'd quickly realized what a stupid idea that had been, and he had the crack over his left eye to prove it. Boss was relentless, regardless of the connection they had once shared, and while, on occasion, Sans longed for the cheeky little brat that had looked up to him, he couldn't say he wasn't proud of what Boss had become. The Great and Terrible Papyrus, Scourge of Snowdin, and Lieutenant to Captain Undyne of the Royal Guard. That was quite a high title, one that Sans himself could never hope to obtain, nor did he wish to. High titles came with enemies, with greedy individuals who would do anything to take your place.

Nah. Sans was fine just being his brother's underhanded lackey.

"TOO QUIET."

Sans jolted, realizing he had fallen too many steps behind his brother, leaving himself partially concealed in the trailing darkness at their backs. Boss's voice, thick and growling, startled him back from his wandering thoughts, only further dragging him into the reality of their current unpleasant situation. Boss had slowed, skull turned slightly, just enough that Sans could make out the glow of the closest red pupil, the one that was currently burning a hole into his face like a laser, just by shear intensity. It was a questioning look, one that was equally paired with command and annoyance.

"wh-what?"

"I SAID, 'TOO QUIET'," Boss repeated, cold and toneless. In any other world, those words could have been ones of concern, but there was no emotion in them. Nothing that spoke of anything remotely worried; just a fact of life. "AS IN YOU. _YOU_ ARE TOO QUIET. AND THAT NEVER BODES WELL. FOR ANYONE."

The smaller skeleton swallowed, quickening his pace and nervously shoving his twitching fingers deeper into the pockets of his worn, leather jacket. He fell in step as his brother continued forward once more, slow and as steady as the metal walls around them. Boss was like that; rock hard and solid - physically, mentally, and emotionally. It made him hard to read sometimes, like trying to decipher the the inner workings of a clock without a face, but Sans could do so better than most. He understood his brother's subtleties, the little things that gave away his thoughts and opinions of the world. For instance, the quieter he was, the more serious, and the more Sans knew to stay on his toes. Arms crossed meant alert, but not as alert as when Boss's arms lay still and ready at his sides. All it would take would be one flick of his wrist and Boss would have any enemy neutralized. _Brutally_.

Judging by those subtle cues, Sans could tell Boss was wound up pretty tight. Those heavily leather-padded shoulders were rigid and tense, and Sans felt his own shoulders stiffen in kind.

"sorry, boss. guess i'm jus' a little on edge." Sans kept his gravelly voice low, red eye lights flickering to every shifting shadow, real or imagined. He himself was wound up tighter than a yo-yo, only the string was strangling wire and the wooden spool was his throat.

Boss gave a distracted grunt, uninterested in excuses. His hand glowed a steady pulse of crimson magic, wisps curling up toward the dark ceiling and casting the dull red light out before them. Sans tried to ignore how it barely managed to pierce the gloom, the inky black hiding all possible threats behind a dangerous veil. It was like walking a tightrope blindfolded. Over a pit of dust-eating vermin. During an ice storm. It made Sans's LV roil within him, terrified, and yet itching for a fight. Sans tried to keep his mind off of the feeling by focusing hard on his brother's stealth and grace. Boss stalked forward like a beast, unafraid and a force to be reckoned with. A powerhouse of magic tipped on a balanced scale of controlled violence and a mind like a battle schematic. Sans felt small and useless in comparison, but there was safety in that feeling as well. Of not having to be the one in control.

Sans's gaze shifted back to the glow of his brother's magic. He'd have never been able to withstand the strain of keeping up a flow like that for so long a time. They'd been traversing the corridors of the lab for nearly half an hour now, and still there was no end in sight. It was a little claustrophobic, to be honest. Like the walls - and possibly unseen foes- were slowly closing in on them. They were walking through enemy territory; Captain Undyne's Lieutenant and his weak, five HP brother. One a strategic prize, and the other practically free EXP. It would have been laughable if it weren't so utterly terrifying.

Again, Sans had the almost crippling urge to turn back, to throw in the towel and shortcut to the relative safety of their home in Snowdin, but he knew that was out of the question. Doing so would most likely only ensure getting both him and his brother executed. Or worse yet, _tortured beyond all belief or recognition_, and _then_ executed. No, turning back now would only leave him and Boss with a price on their heads, one unequaled in all the Underground and then some. They'd be hunted down in ten seconds flat. After all...

_No one_ disobeyed a summons from _King Asgore himself_.

Sans carefully sidestepped a razor-edged tear in the floor plating, trying to sound disinterested and casual despite the nervous sweat trickling down between his shoulder blades. "so, ah...th' king say what 'e wanted us fer? i mean, ya i could un'erstand, but me-"

"ARE YOU ATTEMPTING TO MAKE _SMALL_ _TALK_ WITH ME?" Boss rumbled, cutting him off, and Sans thought he sensed a hint of teasing amusement. "BECAUSE YOU KNOW VERY WELL THAT I DO NOT PARTICIPATE IN SUCH FRIVOLOUS PASTIMES. A GUARD IS ALWAYS TO THE POINT."

"yeah, but i ain't a guard. m'a sentry." Mindful not to sound _too_ snarky, Sans muttered, "besides, ya said i was _too_ _quiet_ a moment ago. i got two modes, quiet an' chatty. make up yer mind." He internally flinched at his own boldness, but Boss seemed un-offended, too focused on their journey to scold him for stepping out of line.

"MM," was all he said.

Sans took that as permission to press on. He had always been one to test his luck. "...soooo?"

"SO, WHAT?"

"so, ya gonna tell me wha' the king wants us fer?"

"IT IS NOT MY DUTY TO DECIPHER THE KING'S MIND, ONLY TO OBEY," Boss grumbled, suddenly sounding irritable and tired.

That was quick. Sometimes Sans wondered if his brother's high LV was the cause of his unpredictable mood swings. Maybe. Then again, everyone in the Underground seemed to have a chip on their shoulder these days, or a bone to pick. The result of too many monsters in too tight a prison. They were antsy, and itching for a kill, their LV burning through their cores. New Home was a corrupt maze of cutthroats, thieves, and murderers, and the smaller biomes weren't much better. Even Snowdin had its gangs and underhanded thugs. Boss had been dealing with them for years, and still they remained a near constant threat. Tempers tended to run high, and LV and EXP were garnered like free candy. It wasn't an ideal life, but it was honestly all they had. All they had ever known.

Boss remained stoic as he marched forward, his long strides hard for Sans to keep up with. The glow of his magic cast a red highlight on his face, accentuating each curve and point of his jaw and cranium. "IF YOU WOULD TAKE A MOMENT TO _THINK_, YOU WOULD REALIZE IT IS YOUR DUTY TO SIMPLY _OBEY_ AS WELL."

"...right." Sans rolled his eye lights, unaffected by the harsh dig. Duty was overrated. As was loyalty. It was that kind of mumbo-jumbo that got a low HP monster killed, and Sans wasn't too keen on that. The only thing that mattered was making sure he stayed on the good side of those in power, and watched his back in case he did piss somebody off. He'd already made a major slip up lately, and he wasn't a fan of making it worse. "but ya gotta have _some_ kinda clue, boss. 'e doesn't jus' summon folks down 'ere fer the 'ell of it."

Unless the king was even more off his rocker than usual. Which, honestly, couldn't be ruled out.

Boss sighed, pausing only long enough to fix Sans with a disapproving glare, the smaller pulling up short so as not to run into him. Sans gave him a sharp, lopsided grin and Boss grunted in exasperation. "EVEN IF I _DID_ KNOW HIS REASONS FOR CALLING THE BOTH OF US IN, I WOULD NEITHER WANT NOR _NEED_ TO DIVULGE THAT INFORMATION TO _YOU_. YOU ARE MY UNDERLING, NOTHING MORE. YOUR JOB IS TO DO AS I SAY, NOT QUESTION ME. I DO NOT EVEN NEED YOU. YOU'RE LUCKY I LET YOU STAY AROUND AT ALL." He reached out with his free hand and latched onto Sans's upper arm, hard enough to make it reverberate with a dull twinge of pain, and roughly manhandled him so Sans was stumbling on ahead down the corridor.

Sans gave a weak yelp, but managed to regain his footing before he could fall flat on his face. He half turned and gave his brother a glare, half ready to flip him off. Though, on second thought, doing so would probably be a bad idea. He was rather attached to his middle finger, used it a _lot_, and losing it to a grouchy brother-slash-lieutenant-slash-jerk would be a real bummer. He settled for just looking majorly pissed.

Boss was unaffected. "NOW, STOP SLOWING US UP. I WILL NOT STAND FOR YOUR LAZY GAIT GETTING US BOTH IN TROUBLE. THIS WILL BE TENSE ENOUGH AS IS WITHOUT YOUR STUPIDITY GUMMING UP THE WORKS. NOW _MOVE_."

Sans hissed in slight pain as he massaged his now throbbing shoulder, wincing as his brother gave him another less-than-gentle shove and then followed at his back, a cold but sturdy presence. Sans would be lying if he said the change in position didn't actually make him feel a tad bit more at ease, not that he would ever admit to it as he trudged forward, grumbling. The darkness ahead was still intimidating, but with his brother behind him he felt he could rest assured that nothing could possibly be creeping up on him from behind, at least not without having his brother to contend with first. In order to get to _him_, they'd have to get through _Boss_, and that would be quite a feat indeed.

"yeah, well, i don' know why 'e couldn'ta jus' met us in th' thrown room or somethin', like 'e usually does," Sans groused. "insteada down 'ere in this crummy place." Sans felt Boss stiffen behind him. "all kindsa unnecessary if ya ask me." His senses tingled as the words left his mouth, and Sans instantly regretted the disrespect he had laced them with.

"_NOBODY_ ASKED YOU," Boss snapped. "SO _SHUT UP_." There was a slight edge of uneasiness to his tone that gave Sans reason to mentally pause. Slight anxiety? Discomfort? Sans wasn't sure which. That moment of confusion was quickly replaced with pale understanding when, quieter, Boss hissed out, _"Somebody May Be Listening."_

Oh.

Yeah.

Wallowing in his own case of nerves, Sans had very nearly forgotten.

In this realm of putrid scents and dark, creeping shadows, Alphys was supreme ruler - at least when Asgore wasn't around to make her cower and stutter in terror like the coward she was. The labs were her ultimate domain, and like any truly worthy matron in the Underground she headed a vast network of spies and security software, some of which both brothers suspected even stretched beyond the Hotland border and as far as the fringes of Snowdin. If Boss was the keystone cop of the colder regions, Alphys was the seething matriarch of the arid laboratories. There were probably cameras all around them at all times, tracking their progress, recording their every word. Alphys was a tattle-tail, and had an even less moral standard when it came to duty and loyalty than Sans did. If she overheard something that she thought might be useful to her, or that might take down those she considered to be in her way, Alphys wouldn't hesitate to report it to Asgore, embellished and garnished in lies and half-truths. Speaking brashly about the king was probably a _really_ bad idea, and Alphys didn't like Sans to an even minute degree. She'd probably jump at the chance to hurt him.

Or...

Well...

Hurt him _again_.

Sans found himself faltering in his steps at the thought, his mind stuttering out of focus before slamming back into place. He berated himself for letting those dreadful thoughts cut into him, especially when he had sworn to himself that he would forget what had happened. It was a harder task to accomplish than Sans had anticipated; it seemed he did not have as firm a handle on his mind than he had originally believed.

Boss must have noticed his stumble, or at the very least followed his train of thought, because as Sans pulled up short, curling in on himself at the prospect of being watched by a hidden foe, Boss was there, firm hand against his spine and pushing, urging him on.

"EASY," Boss murmured, still without emotion; just a reminder. "KEEP MOVING."

"e-easy fer ya ta say-" It was beginning to feel _really_ claustrophobic in the corridor now, and Sans panted a little for breath, hanging on to his nerve by his fingertips. "she d-didn't do...d-do _anything _to _you,_" Sans wheezed in barely a whisper. "all you h-had to do was w-watch-"

"PERHAPS. BUT DO NOT ASSUME THAT DOING SO WAS EASY IN ANY WAY. DO YOUR BEST. DON'T THINK ABOUT HER."

Oh, was that all? Problem apparently equaled solution in some weird, nonsensical way, and that was supposed to make things all better.

Sans could have puked.

It was hard to ignore the possibility of cruel, bespectacled eyes glaring at them through some electronic device far above their heads; leering down as they made their trek ever forward, eyes probably squinting in hateful glee as they narrowed in on Sans. It made the hackles of his magic rise in preemptive defense, made Sans stiff and almost painfully on edge, even when all he wanted to do was daze out and pretend they weren't in the labs. That he was home, in his room, stretched out on his stained and filthy mattress fast asleep. But, despite the fear roiling in his soul, Sans nodded jerkily and continued forward with slow, rigid steps, guided by the glow of his brother's magic at his back and the firm hand on his shoulder.

He didn't have a choice.

"m'doin' this un'er protest."

"NOTED."

"an' i ain't doin' nothin' ta help 'er if it involves...pain."

"AS FAR AS I KNOW, YOU AND I ARE MERELY CONSORTS IN THIS INSTANCE. SHE SHOULD STAY HER DISTANCE."

"she'd better..." Sans breathed just under his breath, tight and shaky.

Boss grunted in something like encouragement, or at least as close to it as he could get. "RELAX. IF I CAN SENSE YOUR FEAR, SHE CERTAINLY WILL. NOTHING BAD IS GOING TO HAPPEN, YOU IDIOT. I WON'T LET IT. THIS IS SIMPLY A MEETING WE MUST ATTEND. LIKE SO MANY OTHERS."

"sure."

Like Boss had been able to protect him the last time he'd seen that yellow scaled demon from Hades. His brother meant well, but if Alphys truly wanted to hurt Sans again, and had the king's support like last time...Boss would have no say in the matter. It was all empty reassurance, and Sans ignored that fact like his life depended on it. Better to believe a lie and keep his sanity than let his fear and bad memories get the best of him. Again, Sans merely took a shaky breath and nodded, though his mind supplied him with sharp and agitated commentary. It felt good, to let his anger rise. Anger was better than fear, and Sans latched onto it with both hands.

Where did Boss get off spewing crap like that anyways? Like his brother would actually be able to stop the worst of Sans's fears from coming true if this whole meet up truly went south. Not that Sans didn't have faith in his brother's abilities; Boss was the furthest thing from the helpless, naive babybones he had been back when they were young and homeless on the streets of New Home, but he still held an ounce of goodness in him that made Sans wince every time he caught a rare glimpse of it. It was that wordless mercy Edge allowed every day he let Sans, a _5 HP monster_, keep living, no matter how much of a liability he became. It was the way Boss always forced Sans to take the larger portion of their rations, or how he always took first watch at night, even when he looked ready to drop from exhaustion. It was the little things, really, under the concrete mask of yelling and swearing and hitting; of calling Sans useless and forcing him to train until he collapsed, only to scoff at his weakness.

Maybe, in another world, those qualities would have been favored, maybe even sought after; but not here. Seeing those moments of good in Boss only succeeded in scaring Sans to his core. Because for every good or kind stunt Boss pulled off, however minute, that was one more possibility of someone seeing through him and ratting them out. Word could spread very quickly in the Underground, and rumors of weakness were often hunted down and harvested for all they were worth. Boss would be an exceptionally juicy target if things started getting around that he wasn't the ruthless killer he seemed to be. Undyne wouldn't stand for wimps in her Guard, and in a world of kill or be killed, being known around town as a softy was a sure sign of vulnerability. A vulnerability others would surely take advantage of without mercy. And Sans couldn't let that happen. Even at the cost of his own well being.

It scared him out of his mind, but if things really did go bad at this meeting with the king, Sans would rather Boss stand there and watch, stiff at attention like the true soldier he was, than step in and earn Asgore's wrath as well. Even at his worst, Boss was still Sans's little brother, and if there was one, single thing in their world that mattered to Sans, it was that his brother lived a long life and stayed far from any true harm. It was sappy, and gross, but even a life full of strife and hardship had not been able to knock that weakness from Sans's person.

To the world outside their door, Boss needed to be the fierce and worthy lieutenant of the king's Royal Guard. He needed to be powerful, and deadly, and ruthless. He was adorned with a whopping 12 LV, but to Sans he would always be the little brother that had looked up at Sans with curious eyes, asking why they had to fight; why they had to struggle just to survive, even as they bit and scrambled for food. Why they had to _kill_. Sans could still see all the vulnerable little cracks that resided in Boss's seemingly faultless emotional armor, forged by the hard life they had led since childhood, scabbed over by bitterness but still fresh and bleeding underneath. The cracks were small, invisible to all but one, and Sans could only beg the universe to keep those faults hidden from more vicious souls; souls that wouldn't think twice about turning Boss to dust for his foolishness.

Protecting Sans from Alphys - or even Asgore himself - was a touching sentiment, especially to someone like Sans, whose low stats made him nearly worthless in most monsters' eyes. But just how far did Boss's sentiment go? Whatever small care for him Boss still carried, even hidden, couldn't possibly outweigh the fierce loyalty Boss held for his king and people. Boss had scratched and clawed his way to the high position he now filled, he had given his life to the bettering of himself and had dragged them both out of the gutters in the process. Boss had never left Sans behind, in anything, but...Sans couldn't help wondering if a day would ever come when his brother would have to choose between his only family and his glorious leader, and feared, uncertain, of who Boss would choose in the end.

It scared him, and yet if it was his life or Boss's on the line, he'd much rather it be him.

"o-okay." Sans pushed those thoughts aside like they burned his mind. "sorry. okay. sorry."

"DON'T BE SORRY, JUST BE MINDFUL." They carried on for a few moments or so in silence, only the sounds of their feet against metal to keep them company, Boss's cat-like grace and Sans's shuffling footsteps. And then, when it almost became unbearable, Boss spoke again in a quieter growl than normal. "I Think You Forget Sometimes."

"...huh?"

"You Forget That I Am Not Without My Own Uncertainties Regarding...This Place. These People." He paused, as if sensing his own sincerity and recoiling a moment later. His voice re-hardened. "DISTRACT YOURSELF OR WHATEVER. I WILL NOT BE SOOTHING OVER YOUR NERVES LIKE A NURSEMAID. DON'T BE SO MELODRAMATIC."

Sans refrained from snapping back in frustration, knowing that doing so would only result in a bruised skull. Boss had to keep him in line after all, even if half of it was only for show. It was his place, just as it was Sans's place to submit and obey. Still, the harsh words rolled around behind Sans's teeth like grit, and it was several tense moments before he managed to truly swallow his anger and speak without biting his metaphorical tongue.

"we get'n close or what?" he gruffed instead.

"MM. MORE OR LESS. THE GOING IS SLOWER WITH YOU WITH ME."

"yeah. gee. thanks for that." Then Sans blinked. "...ya've been down 'ere recently?"

"...WHY DO YOU SAY THAT?"

Sans frowned. " 'cause we 'aven't been down 'ere in ages. since we were kids...if ya knew tha' it's takin' longer this time aroun'...then ya must'a been down 'ere not too long ago..."

Boss kept up a stolid facade for a moment, but then gave in with a grunt. "YES. LAST WEEK, IN FACT. FOR A SHORT PERIOD OF TIME."

"boss-"

"IT WAS ALSO AT THE KING'S REQUEST," Boss supplied, cutting Sans off. His voice was dry and toneless as he said it, but the tension was there, and Sans picked up on it at once. If Boss had been summoned a week ago, he would have had no choice but to obey, just as neither of them had a choice now. And that left Sans feeling cold. He didn't like to imagine that his little brother had been called down to meet with Asgore in the labs...alone, with no one to back him up. The king was a madman, and even the prospect of a friendly social call could end in spilled magic and dusty floors.

Protectiveness flared in Sans's chest and he growled. "why didn't ya _tell_ me e's been callin' ya down 'ere?"

"I DID NOT WANT TO MAKE YOU..." Boss trailed off, before his voice steeled again in annoyance. "I THOUGHT I MADE IT QUITE CLEAR THAT I DO NOT REPORT TO _YOU_. AND HE HAS NOT BEEN 'CALLING ME DOWN'. IT WAS ONLY THAT ONE TIME. WHAT I DO OR DO NOT KEEP TO MYSELF IS NONE OF YOUR CONCERN, NOR ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS."

"the _hell_ it ain't!" 

Fueled by instincts that went far beyond self-preservation, Sans turned around and snatched his brother's wrist, the one still exuding a small crimson wisp. It sputtered momentarily under Sans's sudden assault, but it regained its steady stream not a half-second later, renewed. The hold was tighter than it probably needed to be, at least by Sans's standards, but with his meager HP it was unlikely his grip was hurting Boss at all anyway, and there was a point he wanted to make. Both skeletons came to a frozen standstill, Boss's face emotionless and Sans's filled with anger and suspicion. The smaller's chest heaved, a mix of fear and rage wrenching within his soul as sweat condensed on his skull. 

"if he did anything to you, i'll-!"

_"He Didn't,"_ Boss hissed once more, his gaze shooting around them with sharp caution. _"And Don't Talk Like That, You Fool! Do You Want To Be Tried For Treason?! It Doesn't Matter Anyway, The King Has Every Right To-"_

_"no one has that right!"_ Sans gritted back, like every word pained him deeply. He at least had the frame of mind to lower his voice this time around, but it was an effort. Boss was right; stars knew who was listening. _"no one, do you hear me, papyrus?! no one!"_

Boss's face finally showed a glimmer of reaction, shock maybe, before it hardened right back up again like concrete. Boss took a single step backward, wrenching his arm from Sans's grasp in a strong, jerky movement. Sans's sockets widened, but he was too slow to react as Boss raised his arm back and than drove it forward, cracking a solid blow right across Sans's face.

"I Have Told You," Boss intoned icily as the smaller staggered back under the painful force, voice threateningly calm. "You Are Not To Call Me By _That Name_."

Sans swore, tone high whining and muffled as he cradled his stinging face. He instinctively CHECKED himself, half fearing that his HP had suffered under such a viscious attack, but it remained at five. Boss had held no true intent; it had simply been a warning on his part.

Sans took one step backward, breathing hard and pressing his trembling fingers into the throbbing bone, half certain that a bruise was already forming.

"Sans, Did You Hear Me?!"

"y-yes, sir!"

"Good. Now, Look At Me."

It was stupid and foolish of him, especially considering what had just happened, but Sans hesitated, a small thrill of fear shooting up his spine.

"Sans. Look At Me. NOW."

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Sans let his arms drop, trying to shove the anger into his expression rather than the hurt and betrayal that was brimming just beneath. One of his eyelids felt numb, like it was already trying to swell shut, and Sans imagined he made a pitiful sight. The rims of his sockets were wet from the sting of pain, but he wasn't crying. That would be too much of an indignity. Instead, Sans glared up at his brother with what little courage and defiance he still had in that world, and stood as rigid and straight as he could, even as his face stung and his soul pounded in his chest. Red magic glowed between them in the darkness as both brothers regarded each other with steely silence. It lasted for several, world-stopping minutes, and then Sans finally relented, gaze falling to the floor at his feet.

"m'sorry," he spat out at the ground, like it had personally offended him. "m'sorry, i still _care_." The last word came out like a curse on his not-tongue. He sighed, all the fight going out of him, his LV settling and the fear returning. "i sometimes ferget yer not a babybones anymore. that i don't gotta protect ya, or take ya un'er my wing. that ya can do that jus' fine yerself." He let another moment of silence pass, before he whispered out in a shaky voice, "but can ya at least...can ya at least tell me he didn't...h-he didn't-"

His brother's face soften, just a little. Such a small difference no one else in the world would have noticed.

"He Didn't." There was another pause, a little less cold this time, less frigid; and when next Boss spoke Sans could hear the slightest tremor, barely there, in his voice. "It Was A Meeting About The Human."

Sans flinched.

"There Were A Few...Details On The Matter That The King Wanted Clarified. He Originally Asked For You, But...I Convinced Him That You Were Still...Recovering. I Told Him That I Could Answer Any Remaining Questions He Might Have Had. And That Was All He Wanted; Answers To Questions. Nothing More. I Wasn't Harmed." Boss shook his head, regaining his composer with a berating grunt. "SO YOU CAN DITCH THAT SILLY NOTION AT ONCE. BESIDES, UNDYNE WAS THERE AS WELL. IT IS NOT AS IF I WERE ALONE."

"oh, that jus' makes me feel _so_ much better," Sans shot back sarcastically, sending a weak glare up toward the ceiling. Frightened of Alphys as he was, Sans's LV was flaring and bold at the moment. Undyne and Alphys were close, and any means of fighting back at the moment was a balm to his aching soul. If he was lucky, he might have looked right into the lens of a camera, and Alphys would have seen his seething hatred. He hoped she saw him, saw the contempt that burned in his eyes. He'd never be so lucky, he was sure.

Sans then forced a grin in his brother's direction, even though Boss probably wouldn't see it properly in the half-light, and all Sans could see of the other was his silhouette outlined beyond the red glow of Boss's magic. "we can move on now, if ya want. less ya wanna keep standin' here in the dark an' beatin' the crap out'a me like a couple'a idiots."

Boss responded by giving him a less-violent-than-normal shove, and both brothers started onward again, the incident behind them as if nothing had happened at all. There was too much at stake for them to worry about the past right now, not when the near future was so uncertain. Sans had stepped out of line, possibly in view of one of their greatest foes, and Boss had acted accordingly. No anger lingered long between them.

Still...

The smaller skeleton took a careful breath, trying to calm his nerves. He refrained from allowing his shaking hands to bury into the pockets of his coat any further for fear of tearing the material, even though the urge had grown almost stupidly strong. On second thought, he pulled his hands free completely to hang stiff and twitching at his sides. While the action took away his only means of comfort, however small, having his hands bundled up in fabric only increased the crucial few seconds he'd have to defend himself should something go wrong. His magic was strong and heated by LV, a force to be reckoned with in his own right, but it would do him very little good if something cut into him before he had a chance to disentangle himself from his own clothes.

It was better to be on the highest of alert.

The two skeletons came across a fallen metal beam in the dark, where one of the supports had caved in and a mound of soil had filled up one half of the corridor. There were claw marks scored in the steel and dirt, a chilling reminder of the things that had once lurked free until Alphys had recently locked them up again. Sans had never seen the mangled beasts, but he had heard stories; tales of monsters Alphys had gotten her claws into and used for experimentation against their will. Those monsters had disappeared from their homes late at night, and had never returned.

Boss gave yet another low grunt - his favored method of communication these days - and nudged Sans forward.

"GO THROUGH."

Sans snarled but used his annoyance to crush his fear. He reached out and used the wall and the metal beam as a means to lift himself up and over the obstacle, Boss right behind him. Beneath his fingers he could feel the gouges in the matter, the fiber of his bones catching slightly on the sharp edges, though not enough to draw dust. It was a tight squeeze, but they both managed to make it through and move on. Sans brushed the dirt from his now gritty hands, wiping the grime on his shorts.

"i still don' know why 'e wants t'meet in the lab this time," Sans said again in a whisper. "i mean, there's plenty o' other places that'd be better. one's preferably _without_ alphys."

"WHAT ARE YOU IMPLYING?"

"well..."

That Alphys wasn't exactly someone people wanted to hang out with? _Particularly_ Sans? Even compared to most, she was unsettling, her eyes a hazed red and jaw slightly eschew; her gaze always just a little too focused on what parts of your body she could harvest and use for some experiment or other. That and...

What had happened the last time Sans had seen her was still fresh in Sans's mind. Phantom pains and terror-tinged images fooled around with his brain as things were, a constant dark pit he was afraid to fall into. If he truly let his feelings on the matter take shape, he worried it might overwhelm him. And who was to say whether he'd be strong enough to pull himself back out once it consumed him. And so, like many things, Sans ignored it had happened at all, to the best of his ability. But it was hard, especially now that they were literally putting themselves into a situation again that was so, so similar.

Sans averted his eye lights. "nuthin'. m'jus' trying ta un'erstand why she's involved in all this too. i don' like it 'ere, and havin' her around only makes it twice as unsavory. ya _know_ how i feel about 'er, boss."

"MH."

Boss shifted his magic upward, gracing them both with their first true glimpse of the ceiling. There were no cameras in sight in this particular section of the wall, none that were visible anyway. Lenses usually reflected red magic, a fact of science even Alphys hadn't learned to cheat yet, and it made them easier to spot. Their absence seemed to sooth Boss's paranoia a little and his shoulders became a little less tense. He returned his eyes and his magic to the path ahead, illuminating Sans directly.

"I Believe His Majesty Might Be Engaging The Doctor's Assistance," he said quietly.

A little red flag raised in Sans's mind. Boss was volunteering information, relenting in what he had so adamantly skirted earlier. That wasn't a good sign. " assistance n'what?"

Boss hesitated, and Sans thought he was going to get scolded again for asking questions, but after a moment Boss answered in a low, low voice. "I Believe It May Involve...Resets And...Such. As In Stopping Them."

"that's-" Sans felt his soul sink in his chest. "boss, that ain't funny."

"I Never Said It Was."

"seriously, this isn't-what do you mean 'stopping the resets'?! boss, they're already-"

"THE KING IS CONCERNED WITH MANY MATTERS." Softer he added, "Not All Of Them Reasonable."

Sans suddenly felt very, very uncomfortable as a thought struck him. He swallowed, feeling small and surrounded as his steps faltered and slowed once again. His fear skyrocketed to a pre-panic and he drew up abruptly, stopping cold like his joints had turned to ice. "w-why're we r-really down 'ere, b-boss?"

"WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"

Sweat was now soaking into Sans's shirt, drenching him as he started shivering. Pseudo-pain trailed up his ribs and spine, a sudden reminder despite his efforts to forget of the horrors he had endured only a short three weeks before. It all made sense now; Boss's refusal to talk about why Asgore had summoned them, all the mystery surrounding this accursed meeting; why _Alphys_ was going to be there. Terror roiled in Sans's magic and he recoiled, overcome.

"if they're lookin' fer m-more info on the k-kid, i've already told 'em all i know!" he stuttered frantically. "they're d-dead! they're dead, papyrus, i swear i didn't-!"

Boss had nearly run into him when he'd frozen, Sans cowering as he took a step backward into Boss's legs and pelvis. The taller skeleton huffed in surprise, gaze shooting around them in a more controlled panic than Sans's own, not even reacting to Sans's second use of his name. _"BE QUIET!"_ he hissed, voice higher and tenser than usual even as he kept it moderately quiet. _"SNAP OUT OF IT, SANS, YOU IDIOT!"_

But Sans wasn't listening.

It was too late.

All he could think about was the night three weeks back, when he'd confessed the resets to his brother in a moment of drunken weakness. That little slip up had led to questions, and tearful explanations; forced answers on just who this child was that could somehow set back time. The worst of it was that Sans didn't even dislike the kid all that much. They were a pacifist most of the time, only killing when they were forced to, which was rare. Usually it ended with the human child's blood splattered all over the Snowdin snow, once or twice by Sans's own hand. But reliving the same day over and over had gotten to Sans. Fifty-nine resets had tested his patience and his sanity. And then, one day, the kid had just stopped. Sans hadn't believed it at first, sometimes he still couldn't, and he wasn't sure if he should feel grateful or guilty. The uncertainty of his future had haunted him for weeks before he had finally given in and told Boss everything, slovenly drunk and near hysterical.

Boss had done what any good little soldier of the king was supposed to do, whether he believed Sans or not: he reported everything. He had told Undyne, who had told Alphys, who had told Asgore, and the next thing Sans knew he had been strung up in the king's dungeon and tortured for answers he gladly would have given without any resistance. Boss had been there too, helpless to defend Sans in the presence of his ruler. It wasn't until Sans had lost consciousness, his HP a meager, trembling .04 that Asgore had been satisfied that he had learned all there was to glean. Sans had been let go, a lump of shivering bone and seeping magic. It had taken him weeks to heal, even with special attention from his brother. There were still parts of his body that ached; ghosting agony that haunted him even when he was awake. Boss had felt guilty, Sans could tell, even behind that iron mask he could see the hurt and regret. It hadn't been Boss's fault. He couldn't have known how Asgore would react, and Sans, even in a world as harsh as theirs, had somehow found it in himself to forgive his brother for it. But trust, however small between them, had been broken on Boss's end. Sans would never be able to completely tell Boss anything in complete confidence again without the fear of being harmed welling in his soul.

And that was why, even now, as Boss reached out and grabbed his shoulder, Sans didn't know whether to wrench himself away and fight, or give in to whatever painful fate awaited him. The darkness and red glow of the lab corridor mixed sickeningly in Sans's vision, disorienting him as his anxiety shot through the roof. In his mind, it was all happening again. Boss was bringing him into audience with the king, and when they got there everything would go wrong and there was going to be no escape and there would be pain and fear and agony so much agony and-

_"STOP IT! SANS, STOP IT!"_ Boss growled in a hushed tone, grabbing both of Sans's shoulders, wrestling him easily until he was pressed up and pinned to the cold metal wall at his back, Boss towering over him powerfully. "YOU'RE GOING TO PASS OUT FROM LACK OF OXYGEN AT THIS RATE, YOU IDIOT! _BREATHE!"_

Oh, was _that_ what that noise was? He was hyperventilating, gasps ripping out from between clenched teeth like a monster two ticks of a clock away from drowning. Sans could feel the pressure from it, the way air burst up against the back of his incisors as he lost himself to terror and trauma. At home was one thing, where he could shut himself into a closet or have Boss talk him down from the false images in his head, but here, in the lab, where someone might see...that was worse than bad. It only added to Sans's panic.

Boss gave a final almost-frantic glance up at the ceiling before he lowered himself, still gripping Sans's arms as he crouched down to Sans's level. His voice became quieter and softer than Sans had heard it in years, and even through the haze his mind had become, Sans was instantly captured by it. Sockets large circles and eye lights blown wide in fear, Sans stared back even as he continued to struggle for air, his trembling hands cramping up as they clung to his own shirt, tucked against his chest.

"Sans. Enough. You Need To Breathe. I Will Not Let Anyone Harm You Again If I Can Help It." He hooked a finger beneath the worn leather of the collar that hung loosely around Sans's narrow neck, and Sans flinched as Boss gave a small tug. "This Collar Means You Are Under My Protection. You Are My Property. Asgore Will Not Overstep His Bounds Again. I Will Not Permit It."

Them there were traitorous words, even in the midst of his panic Sans knew that. But that was all they were, words. Boss might mean them, in his own, weird, possessive way, but promises meant nothing against Asgore's mighty power and rule. It meant nothing in the face of a monster with a LV so high he had been driven nearly mad.

"c-can't pr-pr-promise th-that," Sans choked out, shaking horribly. "c-can't b-be cer-cert-tin ya'll-"

"I Give You My Word. Asgore Said Nothing About This Being About You, Nor Needing More Answers. I Did That For Him Last Week. What He Wants This Time, He Wants From Us Both. And Even He Would Not Dare To-"

"n-no, i-"

"Brother."

Sans froze, his breath catching in whatever he had for a throat. He looked up and met Boss's- no, _Papyrus's_ \- eye lights, finding in them that familiar weakness. That true self behind the mask of the Underground's most fearsome killer, and yet he still managed to hold some semblance of fondness for Sans. It was dangerous. It was a liability. It was a crack in vital armor, but it was there.

And in that moment, it was exactly what Sans needed above all else.

"I Know You Are Frightened. But We Cannot Show Our Fear. He Will Only Feed On It. Alphys Too. You Have Answered All The Questions You Can, And The King Knows This. He Is Cruel, But He Does Not Do Things Without Cause Or Reason. There Is No Reason For Him To Hurt You Again. As Long As You Give Him No Reason To Question Your Loyalty. You Need To Be Strong, Brother."

Tears threatened to spill from Sans's sockets, fear, pain, and helplessness pushing him to the brink. His breaths had quieted from gasps to shuddering huffs, deep and shaky between them. Sans realized that, in focusing on him, Boss had let the flame of his magic extinguish, leaving them in the dark with only their eyelights to indicate their position. It was a foolish move, practically a dinner bell to any foes in the area, but Boss seemed unconcerned with that at the moment. Sans scrunched his eyes closed, gritting his teeth as he struggled for control.

"i...i-i don' know if i c-can..."

Boss nodded slowly, are at least Sans felt him do so in the darkness, easing back until he let up on Sans's shoulders completely. "You Can."

Sans wasn't so sure, but he wrestled his fears back into the tight corral of his mind, the fight leaving him wrung out and exhausted. Boss stayed crouched with him for several more moments, waiting to see if Sans was going to ease or keep freaking out like the weakling he was. When Sans's breath steadied and his trembling lessened a little, Boss slowly stood to his feet, gaze sweeping the ceiling once more in suspicion as his flame relit.

"You Can," he repeated again. Soft, yet hard as stone. "You Have To."

The moment of sentiment was over. Boss reached out and took hold of Sans's upper arm bone once again, pealing him roughly away from the wall and tossing him back into a stumbling lead. Sans found himself actually feeling grateful. The firm movements and handling were less threatening and more grounding in nature, chasing away the last of his panic. They continued on as they had before, as if nothing had happened, the only difference being that Sans busied himself with trying to wipe away all traces of his breakdown away before they reached the end of their little journey. His jacket was grimy and harsh against his face, especially on the Boss-shaped bruise he had received, but he used his sleeves to angrily smear away the moisture from his sockets regardless, using his self-frustration as a many-runged ladder to pull himself out of his attack.

_stupid._

_useless._

_weak._

In the end, it all came down to this: Boss wasn't going to let Sans be tortured again if he could help it. _If he could help it_. But that promise may or may not have its limits. And Sans didn't know who to trust, his instincts or his brother.

They trudged on for another fifteen minutes or so before Sans could just make out a faint, sterile white light in the distance. It was a cold light, the kind that would probably hurt their eyes once they reached it, harsh and all revealing. It was the kind of light used in surgery rooms, so doctors could see every stitch they thread and every vulnerable piece of you they could get their grubby hands on. The thought made Sans shiver, his anxiety eased but still stewing inwardly below the surface. Boss was all business by this time, striding beside Sans rather than behind now that their destination was in sight. Sans felt his hatred of the labs bubble forth like lava in his chest. The feeling carried the memories of a _lot_ of bad experiences, and they all came flooding to the forefront of his mind now, assaulting his thoughts with frightening images and phantom pains once again, though these were easier to push aside, them far less fresh. Their slow, agonizing approach was making Sans sick to his soul, and he was getting more and more jumpy and agitated as they drew nearer. A sudden wave of fear gripped him once more when he thought he saw a tall shadow in the darkness, and Sans half turned to run-

"DON'T. DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT."

Boss must have been expecting his reaction. Sans felt a tight hand grab him by the back of the neck and force him onward, all signs of that softer Papyrus gone from his expression and tone. It was a rough hold, but one that was very much founded in the here and now, more to ease than harm, and they both knew it. This was as much comfort as their world allowed his brother to show in public. Harsh, insistent, and hard, but at least it kept Sans from making a fool of himself. Kept him from jeopardizing everything and putting them both in danger. The ache of stiff fingers around his neck hurt, but it was a good, real kind of pain. Sans felt more awake than he had the whole trip, and he allowed himself to be marched forward by his brother, out of the corridor's darkness and into the dreadful white light of the lab.

The room they stepped into was just as run down as the rest of the interior they had traversed, only well lit by a series of glaring overhead lamps that hummed with a threatening buzz. The floor was made of cold, white tiles, the walls a whitewash cream, though both were littered with holes and chips and stains, like someone had taken out a bad day on them without mercy. Sans wouldn't put it past Alphys to pull a stunt like that, flying off the handle when things didn't go her way with some experiment or other and taking it out on her surroundings. The scientist was a fruitcake. Fifty-one cards short of a deck. Completely insane.

Speaking of which.

They found Alphys was just to their left once they got their eyes to adjust to the light, her pale yellow scales appearing almost sickly in the glow of mechanized day. She was hunched over a laptop, one she'd jury-rigged to an old, paint-chipped desk. Wires and odd looking devices were stacked all around the device, plugged in and running like some cyborg-ian Frankenstein to all corners of the room and up through holes in the walls. For all her insanity, Alphys was a genius when it came to electronics. Numerous empty cartons of instant noodles molded away at her elbows, and the smell of it filled the room with a warm, salty, and sickeningly thick scent. She was pouring over the data on her screen, fingers tapping away at the keyboard and the sound instantly grated at Sans's already frayed nerves. She didn't even look up or so much as glance in their direction as she greeted them.

"Took you long enough to get here."

Huh. No stutters. Alphys was feeling confident.

Great.

Boss huffed, insulted. "THAT HAS LITTLE TO DO WITH ME. THINGS ARE MUCH SLOWER WITH MY BROTHER IN TOW, AND YOU DID NOT MAKE THE JOURNEY EASY FOR US," he used as an excuse. "YOU COULD HAVE, AT THE VERY LEAST, PROVIDED THE CORRIDORS WITH LIGHT TO TRAVEL BY."

Alphys shrugged, still not looking up from her computer. She jabbed a few keys with a bit more force than necessary. "Electricity's down in that section. Been working on it all afternoon. Besides, I thought challenges were your thing." She glanced up, giving Boss a gritty smile.

Boss merely huffed, not answering either way. His arms rose and crossed loosely over his chest, cementing his mood as bored and annoyed. He stomped himself further into the room, gaze shifting over the mess with disapproval. It was something he should have been familiar with, seeing as he lived with one of the biggest slobs of all time, but Sans supposed Boss could have been putting on an extra flare of contempt for show. If his goal was to intimidate Alphys, it wasn't working. The yellow-scaled scientist watched Boss with a set expression, body un-moving and blood-shot eyes following his every move. It was creepy, and disturbing on an emotional level.

But all that was dropped when she finally caught sight of Sans. Her smile shifted, instantly morphing into something resembling a predatory smirk. She slowly swung around in her chair, giving the smaller brother her full attention, even as her words were directed at Boss.

"I see you brought the toy."

Sans looked anywhere but her.

Boss didn't miss a beat. "HE IS NOT A TOY; HE IS A TOOL. FOR SOMEONE SUPPOSEDLY SO INTELLIGENT, I WOULD HAVE AT LEAST THOUGHT _YOU_ WOULD KNOW THE DIFFERENCE."

Sans almost burst out into nervous laughter as some of the glee drained out of Alphys' face. Boss might not have qualms about being on the scientist's bad side, but Sans certainly did. Then again, Sans could only glean second-hand satisfaction at watching Alphys fall to his brother's blunt line of insult. Alphys sent Boss a glance of mild annoyance, before that cruel smile returned and she eased herself up from her chair with a sigh. The chair creaked under the weight of her; she'd gained a few pounds, it seemed. Sans tried not to panic and run as she sauntered toward him. steps slow and drawn out, like she knew how much she got to him when she was around.

Alphys wasn't much taller than Sans, but she was more solid. She could easily strangle the life from him with her large, meaty hands and tear out his soul with those clawed tips. As she came to a halt in front of him, Sans tried not to cower back, knowing that Boss was watching from over Alphys' shoulder, ready to step in if she dared touch his property. Alphys had gotten lucky that night, authorized to maim by the king's all mighty rule. Touching him now, without the king's word to back her up, would be a grave and deadly mistake.

The scientist looked him over, and Sans tried to keep his hands shoved deep in his pockets to hide their trembling. "Toy. Tool. It's all the same to me," she giggled. Her expression flatlined, intensity in her eyes even as she somehow retained that unsettling smile. "How are you, Sansy?"

It was an effort to keep his voice steady. "fine."

"Really?" Alphys' gaze dragged downward, peering at his chest like she could see that scarred soul beneath his many layers of clothing. "No...aches or pains you want me to look at? Nothing in need of attention after our little...play date?" Sans's eyes snapped to hers, and she looked pleased that she had finally forced a reaction. "What's the matter, Sans? Still a sore subject?"

All pretenses of staying on Alphys' good side went up in smoke as Sans gave her a lopsided grin that was tight and strained. "depends. how's that diet treatin' ya?"

The smirk fell from Alphys' face like a mudslide. She glared into his eye lights for a moment, hands twitching like she would have loved to sink her claws into him, but she too was aware of Boss watching them. One wrong move and she'd be dead. Instead, she hissed out in a low and dangerous voice, _"Don't mock me, Sans._ Don't you _dare_ mock me."

Sans internally winced, but couldn't help a final jab. "oh. i guess i'll take that as a 'no'. pity."

Alphys eye twitched.

As far back as Sans could remember, there had always been hostility between the two of them. Deep rooted jealousy that traced back to their days as interns in the labs, long before things had really gone bad. Sans had been a prodigy. Alphys had been one too. But it all came down to the fact that Sans had been just a little bit more of a prodigy than Alphys could compete with. And she had never forgotten that. How he had swiped that royal assistant position right out from under her, crushing all her dreams in an instant; she'd held it against him ever since. Sans could practically taste the bile in his mouth as he remembered the look on her face when Asgore had asked her to assist in Sans's torture. The pure, unashamedly joyous expression on her face as she had used her skill and knowledge to chip decimals off of his HP, driving him to scream and beg for mercy, all without killing him.

To be fair, Sans hated her guts too, and time apart didn't seem to have cooled things off either. Despite how fearful of her he had been out in the corridor, of her all-seeing eyes and informants, Sans couldn't help sending her a sharp grin in return, temper flaring to life and resurrecting his passive-aggressive nature. Defiance could cancel out fear, or hide it thinly beyond a veil at the very least.

Alphys gave Sans a final, hateful look, almost like she was inches away from murdering him, but Sans felt bolder now that he wasn't surrounded by dark and eerie hall walls, or strung up, defenseless and vulnerable. He held her gaze just as steadily and their eye contact was heated, before Alphys was turning away to return to her seat. She plopped into the desk chair, the stupid thing rolling back lazily with a cheesy rattle of cheap metal wheels. It was worth another jibe, Sans was sure, but a little voice inside told Sans he had pushed his luck as far as was sane. Alphys was very much an enemy. And Sans didn't want to taunt her to a point where she would strike back, Boss looking over her shoulder or no.

Sans treated her to a shrug of indifference, even as he could feel his hands shaking even harder with adrenaline in where he had shoved them into his pockets.

Boss rolled his eyes at their rival-esque display. "ENOUGH. I DID NOT COME ALL THIS WAY TO ENDURE SUCH NONSENSE. WHERE IS THE KING?" he asked Alphys with impatience.

The lizard woman had again been hypnotized by the data on her screen. Without looking up she drawled with annoyance, "He'll be here. Him and Undyne will be here when they feel like it." She punctuated the end of her sentence with a savage click of her mouse, opening what looked like another file. Sans couldn't see what it was from where he was standing, but it had captured Alphys attention quite vividly. That couldn't mean anything good.

"UNDYNE?" Boss repeated with some surprise. "I WAS NOT AWARE THAT THE CAPTAIN WOULD BE JOINING US FOR THIS MEETING."

"Yeah, well, you don't know everything, now do you," Alphys shot back with a saccharine voice, dripping in mock sincerity. Sans shivered, remembering that tone being spoken to him, just before Alphys had dragged her claws down the side of his soul, slow and torturous. At the same time it was mildly hilarious hearing her use almost the exact same words on Boss as his brother had to Sans only a short time before. Just went to show, there was always a bigger fish.

Alphys was really lucky Boss wasn't in one of his dangerous moods. A lesser monster would have been dead where they stood after addressing the lieutenant that way. But Alphys was useful to Asgore, and a close 'friend' of Undyne. Killing her would have repercussions neither Sans nor Boss were ready to contend with. Instead, Boss grunted.

"MH. I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE." More darkly he added, "BUT YOU WOULD DO WELL TO FEAR WHAT I _DO_ KNOW, SCALE-SKIN. YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN DIG UP THE ROTTING FLESH OF THE PAST."

Alphys paused in her typing and Sans felt his chest swell with pride even at that small victory. She seemed to be considering the threat, before she apparently deemed it worthy of caution. Boss had got her, and gotten her _deep_. Even for a supposedly trusted member of the king's staff, Alphys had too many secrets. Both brothers knew she would kill - and probably _had_ killed - as a means of keeping them that way. But Boss was also a high ranking member of the Royal Guard. Killing him would only turn Asgore's rage on her. Sans was the king's Judge, for what it was worth, and that too meant at least _something_. And so they were at a stalemate; three monsters with dirt on the others, but helpless to make any use of the information.

The scientist stayed frozen a moment longer, before an icon lit up on her task bar. She glanced at it, before swiveling slowly in her chair to meet Boss's unwavering eye lights. "I will keep that in mind," she assured him without emotion.

Boss hummed, rolling his eyes in distaste. "GOOD. NOW THAT THAT'S CLEAR. WOULD YOU BE SO _KIND_ AS TO EXPLAIN WHAT WE ARE ALL DOING HERE?"

That unsettling smirk returned to Alphys' expression as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest in mirror of Boss's own pose. There was a smug undertone to her attitude that Sans found extremely disturbing and put both brothers at full alert.

"Most certainly, Lieutenant. That is, after all, _why I have summoned you_."

Sans jolted back and hunched in on himself at the new yet familiar voice. He whipped around, Boss and Alphys following his example with much more calm to view the great, hulking form of the king as he slowly stepped into the light, emerging from yet another corridor. At his side was Undyne, all tall and lithe, every inch of bare skin littered in scars. She too sported a uniform like Boss's, all black and red leather. It was more worn, from years of grueling service, even before she became captain. Her dead eye lay open and gaping in the bright lights of the lab, the other so piercing a yellow it nearly glowed.

Asgore came to a slow, lumbering halt, his harried gaze intensely sweeping over them all, first on Boss, then on Alphys, and finally sliding down to pick Sans apart with his eyes. It was all there, written in the king's face, there being no need for Asgore to hide his train of thought. He was considering him, viewing him like one might a damaged piece of garbage they were considering throwing away. And yet there was also a grim, almost fond fascination. A fascination of a sickening and dangerous kind.

The king was a terrifying sight, no matter how often one found themselves in his presence. His fur was matted and manged, contrasting in an ugly way with the rich extravagance of his clothes and armor. He towered above them all, even Undyne who now stood at his side, his broken, jagged horns still somehow managing to almost scrape along the lab ceiling. His eyes were a deep, deep red, a window into a soul so gorged with LV that there was room for very little else. The claws of his hands and feet were easily the length of Doggo's daggers back home in Snowdin, and Sans mentally winced at how easily he could imagine them slicing into his tender ribs. The king was overweight, but in a bulging, hulking sort of way. Out of shape, but not enough to put a damper on his extreme strength and power. Magic hummed about him, suffocatingly violent and heavy, even for monsters accustomed to being around those with high LV. The king's might was inescapable, and his mere presence left Sans feeling ill and weak in comparison.

Sans shivered.

Boss dropped his arms from their crossed position over his chest, instead letting them hang loose but ready at his sides. "YOUR MAJESTY," he greeted with a stiff but regulation bow, all Guard and stoic.

Asgore's gaze slid back to the taller brother, and Sans sagged slightly in relief. "Ah, Lieutenant Commander Papyrus. I had doubts as to whether you would come."

If Boss was insulted by that, it didn't show. He merely bowed again. "MY DUTY IS TO YOU, O'KING. THERE IS NOTHING ELSE TO WHICH I AM LOYAL."

"Mm. Indeed." Asgore didn't sound sure, and Sans thought he sensed a flicker of a glance thrown toward his position. "That is quite a pleasure to hear. I am also pleased to see that you followed my instructions, and brought along My Little Judge."

With no twinge of emotion, Boss responded, "YES, SIRE."

"Good. Very good." Asgore's fevered gaze once more shifted down to Sans and leered. With slow, deceptively smooth motions, the king raised a hand, beckoning with a finger. "Come, Sans," he practically purred. "Take your place and stand beside me. As is your duty and your right."

Sans hesitated for only a moment, the lowering of the king's brow informing him that he had better comply or suffer the consequences. Panic was welling up inside again as his mind asked itself frantic questions of why Asgore wanted him so close, within easy reach of those dreadful claws. Boss was watching Asgore very intently, his body tense and rigid as barbed wire, and equally sharp. It gave Sans some comfort, but not much. He tried to remember his brother's words from the corridor, but they seemed even emptier now than they had then. Wounded thoughts of torture and helplessness flooded Sans once more, and it was all he could do not to collapse and beg for forgiveness right there and then, even when he was fairly certain he was innocent of anything the king and his minions could stack charge against him. But Sans knew better.

Innocence meant nothing here.

Accepting his fate for what it was, and sensing the eyes of all those in the room trained on him, Sans sank willingly into apathy. He carefully edged himself forward, eyes fixed firmly on the floor for fear just looking at the king would somehow tip the scale out of his favor. A madman needed very little incentive to lose his cool, and Sans was certain he wouldn't be able to handle too much punishment today. He was exhausted, and sore from being so on edge for so long. His soul was still wounded from the torture, and it wouldn't take much to truly break him at this point. Asgore would have been able to snap him like a twig if he had so wished, and that possibility was still very real.

Sans tried to obey without question, without thought, just as Boss had told him to.

To the surprise of all, Boss broke in with a firm voice just as Sans crossed the halfway point to the king's side. "YOUR MAJESTY?"

Asgore's gaze swung around, curious but also slightly impatient. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

Boss seemed to be gathering himself. No one could read it but Sans, but Boss was wound tighter than a clock. Careful not to glance at Sans directly, Boss rumbled on. "IS HIS HIGHNESS PLANNING TO DO MORE DAMAGE TO MY PROPERTY THIS DAY?"

Sans swallowed, freezing as his gaze snapped toward the king. He was very aware of Alphys' eyes on him, doubtless enjoying his every moment of anxiety. Undyne seemed more interested in watching Boss, as though impressed by his courage in questioning their king, but she said nothing. Asgore himself stilled, looking thoughtful. Eventually his gaze returned to Sans, and their eyes met by accident. Sans felt his eye lights constrict as Asgore sent him a threatening smile.

"Not unless I deem it necessary."

So there it was; the closest thing to a promise as a mad king could get. Sans wasn't on the entertainment list this evening, but Asgore was making it clear that punishments would be distributed should Sans cause any trouble. Obedience and certainty held no kinship here. Sans would probably walk away from this unscathed, but, then again, he might not. But standing as he was now, frozen by fear, would certainly gain him the later.

Swallowing his seething terror, Sans forced his numb and trembling legs to work and managed to walk quickly the remainder of the way to the royal's side, before turning to take up his position on the king's left. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, down at his shoes who's laces had come undone sometime during their walk through the lab. It was a meager but welcome distraction. Asgore's eyes had followed him the whole way, as had Undyne and Alphys', the king looking pleased and eerily calm. When Sans finally reached his destination and settled, Asgore gave a soft rumble of praise, his taloned hand snaking down to gently curl around the back of Sans's shoulders and skull, frighteningly gentle. Like a caress, only so much worse. It was all Sans could do not to show his fear, or flinch at the unwanted touch.

"Very good," Asgore hummed again.

Then he raised his eyes back to Boss, and from his submissive position Sans completely missed the look of cruel triumph that flitted across the king's face, his eyes boring steadily into Boss's own. Asgore wasn't fooling anyone. Like Boss had said, Asgore was cruel, but never needlessly. He was clever, and cunning, cautious from centuries of paranoia, and for good reason. There had been many attempts on the king's life, all of which had failed. Sans had been made to judge them himself; gave sentence and even execution when he was ordered to. Asgore had a sixth sense when it came to keeping others under his thumb. As long as he had Sans in claw's reach, he would have Boss's complete attention and cooperation. Just in case.

Asgore was one of the very few who still managed to sense the weak connection between the brothers, no matter how hard they fought to hide it, and he wasn't afraid to take advantage of Boss's single weakness.

"Now," the king rumbled in a low voice. "In answer to your question, Lieutenant; I have summoned the four of you here for a very important purpose. One that will decide the fate of my kingdom, and the future of all monsterkind."

Boss raised a brow. "THAT IS QUITE A STATEMENT, YOUR MAJESTY. DO THEN INFORM US OF YOUR THOUGHTS."

Alphys rolled her eyes but said nothing.

Asgore gave Sans's shoulders a contemplative squeeze, just hard enough that his claws pricked just slightly into the leather of Sans's jacket. Sans couldn't help the way that his breath hitched, trying his darnedest not to squirm away instinctively. The king was just waiting to pounce on his first sign of disobedience.

"I am sure you are all well aware of how my patience grows short in regard to the issue of the Barrier," Asgore hummed.

All present nodded carefully, except for Sans, who kept very, very still. He was fairly certain Asgore wasn't interested in what he knew or didn't know. Sans was merely a pawn in the chess game Asgore liked to play with his subordinates.

"Attempts and theories have been made year by year, century by century, and I am loath to point out, doctor," Asgore's eyes slid to Alphys, "that your methods have proven...far less than satisfactory. Especially in lieu of our recent knowledge of the resets."

Alphys looked like her scales might have faded several shades of yellow. Sweat was beading on her brow, even as she still managed that self-confident smile. Though it was decidedly more nervous.

"But since Sans here," and he gazed down at Sans with displaced fondness, "swears so readily on his life that the resets are over and that the anomaly is no more, I have decided, with the good doctor's prompting, to take more drastic measures in our attempts at moving forward and breaking the Barrier for good."

Sans's gaze snapped up to look at the king, the royal surely feeling the movement, but ignoring it completely. Boss cocked his head in cautious interest.

"OH?" he said carefully. "FROM YOUR TONE, AND GOING BY THE DIRECTION OF YOUR WORDS, I WOULD HAVE TO GUESS THAT HIS MAJESTY HAS GIVEN DOCTOR ALPHYS AN ULTIMATUM OF SORTS."

Alphys gave a sudden, nervous laugh, but she didn't answer. Instead she rang the life out of her perspiring hands, and Sans couldn't help yet another slight flare of satisfaction that sparked in his soul at the sight of her distress. Instead, Alphys said, "I-I have been r-researching other means by wh-which we might break the B-Barrier. Strange th-things; outlandish ideas. I-I figured if nothing scientifically r-rational has worked so f-far, m-maybe something less s-so would hold the answer."

Undyne chipped in on the conversation for the first time with an unintelligent, "Uh, like?"

"L-Like _not_ using the h-human souls," Alphys suggested. "A-At all."

Sans didn't like that declaration in the slightest. It reminded him too much of a previous Royal Scientist who had let his crazy theories on artificial souls and DT injections slowly take over his life. Obsession was a strange and dangerous bedfellow, and Gaster's demise was still something that haunted Sans's worst nightmares. That and the memories that proceeded the lunatic's death; memories of syringes filled with glowing red, pain beyond comprehension, and a hopelessness that surpassed even the most depressing of days Sans had to endure. The thought that similar experiments might be taken up again, under Alphys' direction, was enough to turn Sans's soul to lead.

Boss looked confused. "NOT USE THE...? I BEG YOUR MAJESTY'S LENIENCE, BUT I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT THE ONLY WAY TO BREAK THE BARRIER WAS THROUGH THE COLLECTION OF SEVEN HUMAN SOULS."

"That is correct."

"THEN HOW CAN-"

Alphys cut in, impatient and annoyed. "Th-There have b-been other means by which the B-Barrier may be led to believe it is b-being presented with the r-right number of souls. Or, in a less d-drastic number, at least believe that one human soul and one m-monster soul are attempting to p-pass through."

"So, sort of a bypass," Undyne concluded. Science wasn't really her thing; Sans was surprised she was following at all. "Trick the Barrier into thinking we've got what we don't."

"E-Exactly."

Sans grit his teeth, wanting fervently to squirm out of the king's hold, but resisting for fear it would cost him his - and possibly his brother's - life. But he could no longer remain silent, not when his superiors were discussing the possibility of something that they didn't fully understand. None of them remembered Gaster, or his DT and Barrier related experiments. Which meant they also did not recall the end results of his obsessions, about how it had almost destroyed not only the Underground, but all space and time along with it.

"s-scientists have been tryin' ta find a substitute fer human souls fer centuries, and they've never had any luck," Sans spoke up instead, attention focused on Boss for fear of seeing anyone else's expression. "they've tried everythin' from disguised magic signatures ta p-pumping monsters full o' DT ta try and make 'em more human, without success." He narrowed his sockets and finally shifted a bit, fixing Alphys with a look of heavy contempt. "what makes _you_ think ya'll come up with an ans-answer-?""

Sans's eyes widened and his sentence choked out at the end as Asgore's clawed fingers tightened again on the back of his neck, a warning not to step out of line; that if Sans had a problem with Alphys he was challenging the king's authority. Above him, Asgore gave Alphys a cruel smile.

"My Little Judge, you are not wrong. But you do not have the proper faith in the prospect that _death_ is a _very powerful motivator_."

Alphys gulped.

Asgore chuckled lowly before he turned his fiery eyes to Boss. "It appears, if the good doctor's theories are correct - and they had _better be_\- that a possible solution has indeed been found in the past. Why it was never utilized is a mystery, but that is of very little consequence. We have it now, and that is all that matters. It is deeply based in a good deal of sound science, but it will also take a fair amount of loyal Guard force and obedience." There was a threat behind his words, soft, but dangerous. "I can count on you for that, _Papyrus_, can I not?"

Neither brother liked the sound of that, Sans wincing at the king's use of his brother's given name, then again as one of the king's fingers moved to gently stroke the side of his skull, claw just barely making contact. A reminder, to Sans _and_ Boss of what was at stake.

Boss merely folded his arms over his chest a little tighter. "...GO ON."

Asgore grinned, fangs glinting in the white lights of the lab. Angling Sans so that the skeleton was better facing Alphys and the desk, he nodded to the waiting scientist and the lizard was quick to turn her computer monitor so they could all easily see its screen. It took a moment for the brothers to realize what they were looking at, but the second they did there was a barely audible inhale of breath from the both of them. Sans suddenly felt terribly exposed and vulnerable, whereas Boss expertly fortified his mask to be strictly neutral. There, presented glowing on the screen in all its glory, was a very detailed schematic of Sans's body and soul. Some sort of x-ray Alphys must have gotten a hold of, showing off the flow of his magic and the mana-lines coursing deep in his innermost being. It showed a smaller version of Sans than what stood trembling in the king's hold, possibly from back when he had first started his internship at the lab, barely out of stripes. Sans could only assume it was some left over piece of info left behind after Gaster's erasure. In the image, Sans's soul, so small and weak compared to so many others, was just barely discern-able, littered in cracks and scars. In other words, nothing special, and certainly far from healthy. It barely glowed at all, its brightest parts where LV had grown and gathered like a vein-esque disease along its surface.

Boss took the image in without comment, his sockets narrowing slightly as his back became somehow even more rigid. Sans's gaze flicked over to him, seeking out either defense on his behalf or acknowledgement at the very least regarding this breech of privacy. There world was messed up, true, but there were still courtesies set in place, barely manifested morals that hung in an ever shifting balance. But no. No, Sans didn't have a say in this, and neither did his brother, so neither tried. The king owned them all by right, the whole Underground and its every inhabitant. There was nothing to be said or done in response.

"Through quite a b-bit of happenstance findings and research," Alphys explained hurriedly, "I f-found out th-that Sans's genetic and magical make-up is not all that d-different from a human's, due to some experiments h-he was already subjected t-to?" Here she sent Sans a questioning glance. His roiling emotions of shock and fear must have shown in his face, giving her all she needed, because a smirk curled her lips as she turned back to her computer illustration with new confidence. "experiments that were performed on him several decades ago."

Sans shuddered and Asgore's claws held him more firmly in place, softly squeezing in mocking comfort. The claws had needled their way past the leather of the skeleton's jacket, the tips just barely pricking at his bones beneath, daring him to try and squirm away without ripping himself apart. Sans himself could barely breathe, his past dug up and dumped on the ground for all to see, a great hulking mess of filth and pathetic existence. He felt small and ashamed, frightened to the point of near catatonia. This was worse than torture. This was worse than just about anything. The tickle of beard against the side of his skull had Sans jolting in terror as the king bent low over his shoulder to whisper into the space where his ear would be if he were anyone else.

"Any comments now, My Little Judge?"

Sans really didn't. He really, _really_ didn't.

"No? Nothing to shed to light, perhaps? On just who it was that did this to you, if it is even true at all?"

Again those claws closed incrementally, and Sans did his best not to start crying in fear. Honesty was probably best in this instance, though too much and his words would sound too fantastic to believe. If the king thought he was lying there would be terrible consequences.

"i-it's true," Sans murmured without a fight. "i h-have several substantial doses o' concentrated dt in my system, though it's...it's probably diluted over the years a bit. but i...i-i don' remember who administered the essence." He begged the universe that Asgore would believe him.

Asgore frowned, interested. He swept a hand in Alphys' direction. "It was not our own Doctor Alphys who performed these procedures?"

"n-no, sire."

"And you expect me to believe that you cannot remember who did this to you?"

Sans trembled, half expecting his neck to be snapped. "n-no-i mean, yes, sire, i-i don't remember. maybe it's because i was so young? i...i-i can't remember, sire, please-"

"How can that be possible?" Alphys interceded without any stutter, smelling blood in the water and wanting to join in the fun. "How can you say you don't remember? My research indicates you were roughly around the age you were when you entered our internship. Or, at least, that's when this x-ray was taken. You can't just blame this on infantile amnesia, Sansy! You _must_ remember!"

"no, no, i'm tellin' ya i-i-"

"PERHAPS THE TRAUMA OF IT HAS HIDDEN IT FROM HIS MEMORY," Boss cut in, and Sans sent him a disbelieving look. Asgore and Undyne must have treated him to a similar expression, because Boss instantly defended himself. "IT IS NOT UNCOMMON FOR MONSTERS TO BLOCK OUT THAT WHICH HAS WOUNDED THEM MOST DEEPLY. IF I AM NOT MISTAKEN, UNDYNE'S OWN FATHER WAS-"

"That's not a part of this," Undyne growled, the subject obviously a sore spot. Boss winced, but then nodded in agreement.

"STILL. MY OPINION STANDS THAT MY BROTHER MAY NOT, INDEED, REMEMBER THIS...INDIVIDUAL."

Asgore narrowed his eyes. "You remember nothing of this either, Lieutenant?"

"NO, SIRE."

And it wasn't a lie. Sans had never told Boss about his friend the Royal Scientist, a friend that had been lost to obsession and turned on him like a fevered dog. Sans mentally put up his walls, refusing to be overcome anymore than he already was. Gaster, and all that he was and had done, was lost, not only in the past but in time in general. All that remained, apparently, were a few scraps of evidence that tied Sans to the lunitic's DT experiments.

Alphys must be having a field day with this.

"...Interesting." Asgore returned to his previous standing position, giving Sans room to breathe. "You are indeed filled with many secrets, My Little Judge." The pressure on Sans's neck was hard to ignore, light as it was for the moment. "Your HP, the resets, and now this. It makes me wonder...whether there are more secrets to be dragged out of you."

Sans knew it was useless to deny it.

Asgore hummed. "Let us hope not, for your sake. Lucky for you, we do not have time to play around with that prospect at the moment." He turned back to Alphys. "Doctor, continue with the details."

Alphys nodded and launched right back in, looking disappointed. "Whoever was in ch-charge of those experiments didn't carry them far enough to work. W-With continued experiments and injections, Sans might very w-well be strong enough t-to pass through the Barrier, registering as b-both a human and m-monster soul. His m-magic is already plenty strong enough to withstand th-the shock of passage through a-and the illumination of the f-force itself. I m-might even be able to pump enough DT into him th-that the Barrier will recognize him as s-seven human souls!" She sagged slightly. "The only p-problem, however, is...Sans's LV."

Boss frowned. He was still rigid as a post, obviously displeased with the turn of events but smart enough not to object. If his voice held the slightest bit of desperation, nobody noticed. "WHY SHOULD THAT BE A FACTOR? HUMANS TEND TO HAVE A VERY HIGH LV. WHY WOULD THAT INTERFERE WITH THE PROCESS?"

Sans nearly cried, his eyes snapping to his brother with fear and betrayal. Why? _WHY?!_ Why was Boss asking helpful sorts of questions when it was so obvious that he didn't approve of the methods. _Why was his brother just letting this happen?! _Sans's breathing had started to speed up, frustrated and frightened by what was being proposed. He looked to Boss pleadingly, but his brother was purposefully ignoring him. His mask was too thick for Sans to read through, but he hoped, _prayed_, that his brother wasn't simply laying Sans out to be torn apart by the intent of his own cruel people.

Asgore was watching Sans very carefully, gaze sliding over to meet Boss's tauntingly as the small skeleton in his grasp began to tremble harder, a terrible sign of weakness. Without breaking eye contact, the king gave a croon.

"Doctor Alphys, if you would kindly explain to the lieutenant."

Alphys took a breath. "The h-human magicians that set the Barrier in place were n-not warriors, but healers and wile-workers."

"...SO?"

"S-So," Alphys countered with a huff of annoyance, "that means that th-their m-magic would have n-not been tainted by LV, but were instead p-pure and clean." She sneered, the thought distasteful.

Of course, they all knew humans were the furthest thing from 'pure'. But if the mages who had woven the Barrier together had not held any LV in their souls, that would mean-

"Th-The spell wouldn't be r-right," Alphys finished. "Even if S-Sans survived the injections and fit the ch-chemistry to a T, h-his soul would still have t-to much LV to p-pass for a copy of the o-original casters."

Sans felt his knees go weak with relief. "y-you mean...you can't use me?"

Alphys sent him a look filled with disappointment and loathing. "No, we can't." Under her breath she added a venomous, _"Unfortunately."_

Sans's knees almost buckled in gratitude.

Boss frowned, and though he looked unaffected by the news, Sans thought he detected a little less tension in his shoulders. Maybe he hadn't been intending to leave Sans to the wolves after all, but had just been trying to figure out how to go about stopping the situation from worsening without risking both their lives. Boss was like that; whereas Sans tended to act on pure instinct, living in the moment rather than planning ahead and taking things in stride. Now, though, it seemed that the prospective dangers had passed, and both skeletons resisted the urge to sigh in relief.

"IF THAT IS THE CASE," Boss intoned curiously, "WHY SEND FOR US? WHY BRING THIS UP AT ALL IF YOUR RESEARCH IS OF NO USE TO US?"

Alphys gave a snarl, on edge and obviously tired of being tested. She put her hands on her hips and fixed Boss with a look that could have curdled cream."I didn't say we weren't still going to go on with the process!" she snapped. "I just said we need a monster with DT, strong magic, and no LV!"

"BUT THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE. NO MONSTERS IN THE UNDERGROUND BUT CHILDREN ARE WITHOUT LV, AND EVEN THEY HAVE GROWN FEWER OVER THE LAST YEAR. CHILD MAGIC IS FAR TOO WEAK TO BE OF ANY USE, AND, AS WE ALL NOW HAVE EXPOSED SO CALLOUSLY, MY BROTHER IS PERHAPS ONE OF EVEN FEWER MONSTERS IN POSSESSION OF EVEN A TRACE OF DETERMINATION."

"That is correct," Alphys conceded.

"...BUT YOU JUST SAID SANS COULD NOT POSSIBLY BE A-"

"I said _this_ Sans could not be a proper candidate," the scientist growled, cutting him off. "But _another _Sans...Another Sans might just do."

The room filled with a long, tense silence. Sans felt sick, his legs threatening to collapse out from under him at any moment. Asgore merely watched the exchange between the scientist and his lieutenant, Undyne obediently following his example. She always had been a brown-noser.

Boss's brow lifted, his head tilting in further confusion. "ANOTHER...SANS?" Sans sympathized with his brother's uneasy bewilderment. "WHATEVER DO YOU MEAN, ANOTHER SANS? WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!"

Alphys' gaze flitted to the king, and then away, licking her lips in anxiety. After a moment, she looked back up at Boss with something akin to confidence. "Have you ever heard of the multiverse theory?"

Sans's sockets widened.

"...NO."

Sans had, and the pieces started all falling into place.

"It's the idea, m-mainly in cosmology, quantum mechanics, and philosophy, that often asserts the actual physical existence of different potential configurations or histories of the known observable universe." At Boss's blank expression Alphys rolled her eyes. "In layman terms, you ignoramus, the theory that there are parallel universes out there, like ours but different. Where there might be another Asgore, or Undyne, or you and me, or-"

"ANOTHER SANS," Boss finished, looking cautious but intrigued.

"Precisely. They'd be like us, but also not. We'd share some personality traits, or pasts, while being drastically different in others. One being, and yet two variations. And there could be endless such worlds. Search hard enough, in the infinity of possibilities, and you're bound to find a version of you for any and all possible outcomes." Her eyes met Sans's, and there was a frightening glimmer of excitement in those bespectacled orbs. "If we could find a way to pin-point the right Sans, one with all the requirements we need, we might be able to bring him back here and proceed with the procedure!"

Before he could think, Sans let out a wild burst of laughter. "y-ya have to be kidding, right?" he spoke between the nervous chuckles to follow. "this is real life, psycho-docto, not science fiction! you can't just pull answers out of yer - _hrk!"_

Sans gagged, taken off guard by the sudden pain, even though, deep down, he knew he should have expected it. Asgore had been hovering over him all throughout this little exchange, claws methodically ticking over the bones of his neck and spine. Now they dug in with a terrible ferocity, and it was only by the obvious restraint Asgore was restricting on himself that had prevented Sans from collapsing into a pile of powdered dust. The pain was prickling and all-consuming, as Asgore dug in with just enough strength to tick Sans's HP down the smallest amount. The skeleton arched into the agony, held suspended in the king's grip even as he wished to fall to the floor and lay there for an eternity. His breath turned ragged, his head a swirl of dizzying wave-like sensations.

Boss took an uncertain step forward, the slightest flash of concern flitting across his expression before it was buried deep behind that seamless mask. He watched with cold eyes as the king slowly increased the pressure of his hold, wrenching gasps and groans of fear and pain from his Judge. The rattling of shaken bones filled the lab office, Alphys watching with sick glee and fascination, probably curious as to just how much pressure Sans's body could take before something would give.

Sans was nowhere near as curious.

Asgore leaned over slowly, a great looming bulk, until his rancid muzzle was close enough that he could growl lowly into Sans's ear once again. "Either you and the lieutenant find me a compatible Sans with the Doctor's assistance and drag him back here, or I'll have Doctor Alphys pump you so full of chemicals that you will be neither human nor monster. Is that understood?"

Sans whined in pain. "b-but how...how are we s-supposed to...to accomplish something like th-that?!" Sans panted raggedly. "y-ya can't just w-waltz into another u-universe!"

The king's grip tightened a little more, the fragile bones of Sans's neck crackling warningly under the pressure. "Ah, see now My Little Judge, that is where I have caught you in another lie."

"l-lie? _hn!"_

"Yes." Asgore's eyes narrowed. "In the basement of your home in Snowdin, there is a machine, is there not?"

Sans mentally swore, his mind stumbling over how - _how?!_ \- things had all gone so wrong.

"I take your silence as admittance," Asgore rumbled threateningly. "You have far too many secrets for a judge, my friend."

"i-i'm sorry, i-"

"What does the machine do? ANSWER ME!"

"_gah! nhh!_ n-nothing!" Sans forced out, strained and stuttering. Through the tears blurring his vision Sans could make out Boss's silhouette, doing nothing to save him this agony. Doubt roared in his mind, all those brotherly assurances from earlier sinking into a bloodied quicksand in Sans's soul. "i d-don't know, it doesn't do _a-anything!_ i don't know what i-it-! sometimes i-it was able t-ta track the r-r-resets but that's a-all! i've been tryin' ta-_ughn!_"

"LIAR!"

Air moved past Sans and for a horrible moment he didn't know what was happening as a sensation of weightlessness overcame him. That is, until he felt his body slam and skid across the cold, smooth tiles of the lab floor, his leather jacket leaving streaks of black and brown in his wake. Sans grunted in pain, hands and feet scrambling for purchase against the slippery floor. Asgore had just _thrown_ him like a sack of potatoes, the force of the blow itself knocking Sans's HP down to 3/5 his base health. Sans's instincts screamed at him to _move_, to _fight_, to _escape_; but Sans found himself too overwhelmed by the throbbing agony tearing through his small form, up his spine into the base of his skull. Fire seemed to race through his bones as his precious life force was depleted, and it was times such as this that Sans appreciated that his LV had increased his HP over the years. Such a blow would have dusted a 1 HP monster instantly.

Sans struggled to sit up, floundering backward as he stared up in horror as the king slowly stalked toward him. Agony laced through the skeleton's side, an indication that he had probably broken one of his ribs. His vision was further blurred, a result of the pain, but there was no mistaking that great, looming mountain of a monster approaching. Sans could feel the thundering steps of the king as he drew nearer, the very ground seeming to shake under his power and strength and weight. A monster like that could kill Sans in an instant, crush his skull like an egg shell. Asgore could have with that very first toss, but Sans knew the king wasn't one for ending lives quickly. He tended to take his time, drawing out the intent to harm, death overtaking his victims like a steady steam roller out for a Sunday stroll, slowly crushing.

A sob of fear slipped from between Sans's teeth. He was very vaguely aware of Boss saying something, but his terrified mind couldn't decipher the words. Somewhere, Alphys was cackling in excited amusement.

"That machine is on your property!" Asgore roared. "It is in your very home, and you tell me that you do not know its function?! Do you take me for a fool that you think I could not see through your deceit?! You are untrustworthy! A spy in my midst, I am certain! A loyal subject would not keep so many things from his lord!"

With a twang of coppery magic, the king's essence formed and snapped into the shape of a three-pronged trident. It glowed a blood red, pulsing with a building, almost electrical power. It was hot, Sans could feel it; like a hot poker is sizzled and sparked. Asgore raised it above his head, eyes zeroing in on Sans's chest, right where his soul lay hidden beneath his coat and shirt. The king's eyes were glowing red with harmful intent and LV, ready to add Sans's number to its own.

"You have committed treachery against me!" he thundered, taking aim with wild eyes. "And you shall die a treacherous death!"

Sans back hit a cold wall, and he threw his arms over his head in meager protection as the trident came down in a crimson arch, humming with intent to _kill_. There was nothing the skeleton could do but brace for what he knew would be a blinding torture, and then death; awaiting the alleged might of a weapon that could literally tear a monster apart at the seams-

.

.

.

But it never came.

A harsh metallic clang rang out within the lab office space, sharp and jarring like the strike of a bell. And then there was utter silence.

Trembling and fearful, Sans continued to wait; three seconds; four seconds; six. Still nothing happened. There was no explosion of agony in his chest, no blinding red light as his core was stabbed through with magic, and no feeling of dizzying surreality as his body crumbled to dust. Nothing. But the air was noticeably colder, charged with agitated magic of a dangerous, seething kind. It was heavy, like an immense pressure was bearing down on them all, and Sans could only assume it was coming from the king. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, Asgore's voice ground out a single sentence, and it was thick with rage.

_"Lieutenant Commander, stand aside."_

Sans lowered his arms and raised his head so fast he almost grew lightheaded. His sockets widened in shock and horror as he peered up past his brother's legs to the king still posed to strike just beyond. The rage was still there, only colder and more deadly. And yet Boss stood between the wrathful king and Sans, a bone weapon manifested in his hands and held at an angle, blocking what would have been Sans's death blow. The two weapons were still touching, sparking slightly as the two monsters' magic repelled against the others'.

Boss was braced against the force that his construct must have taken, but he was solid, unrelenting. "I Believe, Your Majesty," Boss said in a quiet and somehow still respectful voice. "That You Gave Us Your Word That You Would Not Harm My Property A Second Time, Unless He Gave You Cause."

"He has given me cause!" Asgore roared in retaliation, taking a single step forward and pushing Boss back enough that his heels pressed into Sans's knees. "He is a traitor! He seeks my death! He must be stopped before he is allowed to go too far!"

"Your Majesty, Look At Him."

And Asgore did, his heated gaze snapping to Sans's and holding his constricted eye lights like he could read every thought that passed the smaller's mind. There was paranoia there, unlike Sans had ever seen. It burned hot and putrid behind the glassy mirrors of Asgore's eyes, reflecting Sans's own terrified face back at him. Sans flinched and stared back the best he could, putting every once of strength he had left at his disposal into looking as nonthreatening as possible.

Boss watched the king closely, keeping his voice calm. "Does He Really Look Like A Threat To Someone As Mighty As You?"

"That doesn't matter!" Asgore snapped, his eyes jolting back to Boss's own. "You are all suspect! Every one of you!"

"p-please, sire," Sans piped up, trembling so hard he could barely get out the words clearly. "i-i don't know what the machine d-does. maybe i d-did once, b-but n-now i-" He swallowed. "i-i can't r-remember. please. please, believe me, i don't remember!"

"HE DOESN'T REMEMBER," Boss repeated in the face of the king's now slowly fading fury. "I CAN TELL WHEN MY BROTHER IS LYING, AND HE IS NOT. I AM LOYAL TO YOU, NOT HIM; I ONLY INTERFERED BECAUSE YOU KILLING HIM WOULD ONLY MAKE YOUR PLAN HARDER TO ACCOMPLISH. AM I WRONG, YOUR MAJESTY?"

Slowly, the seething tension in Asgore's shoulders became a little less. "You...You are not wrong," he rumbled in a low, uncertain tone. "Alphys would need samples of his stats and magic in order to find a compatible Sans..."

"THEN I ASK YOUR FORGIVENESS, MY KING, FOR INTERFERING IN YOUR RIGHT TO DESTROY THAT WHICH IS JUST AS MUCH YOUR PROPERTY AS IT IS MINE."

Asgore looked back at Boss with far more control, the dangerous fire in his eyes slowly going out as he lowered his trident a little. "...You are forgiven. For the moment."

Boss dispelled his magic and bowed. "THANK YOU, YOUR MAJESTY. AND AS FOR MY PATHETIC BROTHER, I ASSURE YOU THAT ALL HIS SECRETS HAVE COME TO LIGHT. IF THERE ARE MORE, I MYSELF WILL FIND THEM AND DIVULGE THEM TO YOU AND YOU ALONE. THEN HIS FATE WILL LIE IN YOUR HANDS, AND YOUR HANDS ALONE. I WILL NOT STOP YOU."

The king's gaze hardened. "You had do well to not." The trident disappeared with a buzz of magic and a spattering of sparks. "You have quelled my anger, Lieutenant. Do not do so again."

"I WILL NOT."

"As for _you_..."

Sans used the wall behind him to shakily rise to his feet. His knees were knocking in fear and his body felt weak and sore. Boss had stepped aside, and now he stood in the presence of his looming king once more.

Asgore growled. "Come here."

Instincts screaming at him to run and panic still raging through his soul, Sans stumbled forward, so small and helpless in contrast to the beast that held lord over him. Asgore watched impassively, no pity or regret in his eyes even as Sans winced and wrapped a trembling arm around his ribs. When Sans was once more in reach, the king knelt and used one terrible, clawed hand to hold the side of Sans's face. It was gentle and soft, mockingly endearing in a way that made Sans's magic run cold. Asgore lowered his face until their eyes were almost level, one giant thumb stroking Sans's brow, belittlingly, like he were a child.

"You will keep no more secrets from me, Judge. You shall neither try nor succeed. Should I find that you have even attempted such a thing, I shall let the good doctor here have you for whatever purpose she wishes. Or else do the deed myself. Is that understood?"

Sans bowed his head, submissive and shaken. "y-yes, sire."

Asgore's forehead came forward to rest against Sans's own, the hand on his skull shifting down to grasp harshly at the back of Sans's delicate bone neck.

_"...Good." _The mighty overlord purred deep and low into Sans's skull, wringing a choke and a shudder from the small skeleton as he tested the strength of his Judge's weak upper spine. He did not release Sans's throat, however, but tightened slightly again in silent warning for Sans to keep quiet as Asgore turned his gaze to Alphys, his fur still tickling the skeleton's brow. Alphys flinched under his sudden attention, afraid of befalling Sans's same fate. "What must be done before we can begin the scanning for a compatible Sans?"

"I-I'll need to do a ch-checkup, and perform a n-number of tests from our own Sans, to help me f-find a compatible match, one wh-whose qualities line up with what we n-need. And unlike S-Sans here, along with the information on the mysterious experiments, I have also f-found some schematics that m-match the machine in h-his basement. It appears t-to be a portal g-generator; outside of both t-time and space, among other things...M-Meaning that, with some modifications, i-it should allow us t-to walk through to another t-time, p-place, or even another world as easily as t-taking a stroll through the MTT resort." She grinned. "And then we can drag back whatever we find we n-need there."

Asgore gave a growl of approval, giving Sans's neck a final, painful squeeze before shoving the skeleton forward toward the scientist. Sans stumbled, frightened and dizzy, falling to his hands and knees on the metal plating of the floor for the second time that evening. He struggled to catch his breath and brace against the pain in his ribs, his body shaking so hard that even the padding of his clothes could not hide the telling sound of his rattling bones. Asgore drank the sight in with satisfaction.

"Begin," the king's thundering voice commanded, leaving no room for argument. "Or I may start performing experiments of my own. On _you_, doctor."

"Y-Yes, y-your majesty!"

Happy with their results, at least for the moment, the king's great, hulking frame turned and headed for the nearest exit, the swirl and breeze from his cape fluttering the mess of papers on Alphys' desk. Undyne sent those within the room an uncertain glance, before she buried it behind a mask of loyalty and strength. She turned and followed Asgore out, forever flanking his side. A moment later, and it was as though they had never been there. The only evidence of any disturbance were the leather streaks from Sans's coat marring the pristine floor and the shivering skeleton still hunched in on himself on the floor.

Sans remained as he was, limbs trembling, head bowed low with drops of sweat dripping to the floor beneath him, and his breaths forcibly measured; frozen there until Asgore's footsteps disappeared into the silence that followed. Sans very nearly collapsed in relief. He bent forward even more, allowing his heated forehead to rest against the cool metal plating, trying to calm himself enough that his bones' stupid rattling would stop. It did so, slowly. He tried to push away phantom tickles of fur and breath from his face by covering the places that had been touched with his own hands, trying to wipe the sensations from his memory.

He had no idea what Boss and Alphys were doing, but he didn't question the moment he was being given to recover. His throat felt tight and abused, even Asgore's lighter squeezes having been enough to leave a frightening ache. Sans shuddered and tried to find a part of his mind that wasn't steeped in terror and pain. His rib was definitely broken from the king's rough treatment, but Sans knew it could have been far worse. Boss had kept his promise, and Sans wasn't sure whether to ignore that fact or cry in utter relief. Boss had chosen him over Asgore. Sure, he had re-sworn his loyalty, but that didn't change matters. Even beneath all the agony and terror still entwined in his system, Sans found the strength to feel immensely proud, and he made an oath right then and there to ensure Boss never had to make a choice like that again. Sans would help Alphys find a compatible alternate; he and Boss would hunt him down and bring him back, no matter what the cost or danger. Monsterkind would be freed and the resets would be over forever.

Things would finally be right. And Sans wanted that very, _very_ badly. If another Sans had to suffer for _their_ happiness, then so be it.

That wasn't his problem.

That wasn't going to be on his conscience.

A half-hearted kick into his uninjured side informed Sans that his recovery time was at an end. He tiredly sat back up, giving Alphys a glare he hoped made her feel like an insect. The doctor remained unmoved, motivated by her own self preservation and the chance to play around with a monster who was, in her own words, almost human.

"Get up. We need to begin."

And so they did.


	2. To Step Beyond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally another chapter! I am having way too much fun writing this. ^^
> 
> By the way, I forgot to mention that this particular fanfiction is dedicated to me dear friend, dyonisia96. Thank you, my friend, for always being there to cheer me up and share my weird obsession with this fandom. ^^ <3

Sans liked to think that he had grown accustomed to pain. After all, it wasn't like he hadn't had sufficient opportunity to become immune. While one could say that just about every monster in the Underground suffered an inherent case of terrible bad luck, Sans's life made their existence look like a Sunday picnic, complete with frilly lace napkins, cream pie, and little wicker baskets. For many, hardship only truly started in the years just after they were out of their final stripe, as they headed off into the under ground world to survive on their own, more or less away from their families. They had no hope of an honest life, of course, soon to be corrupted by the kill or be killed environment, but at least they could say they had started out with a clean slate. 

Not so with Sans.

His misery had started almost from the very second he'd been formed, emerging from his soul-ling state as an abomination to monster culture and society as a whole. He had been born small and fragile; dangerously weak. His small bones had been brittle and thin, large sockets dazed and coordination almost non-existent. His HP, a shockingly low base level of 1, had been considered unfit for a being of his skeletal species - a race often thought of as some of monsterkind's best. Frankly, Sans shouldn't have survived his nativity at all, so easily snuffed out the mere act of breathing could have shattered him. The doula and healers hadn't even been sure he was sentient at first, so disoriented and blank he had been in the beginning, and it had very nearly sealed his fate.

When a monster was born as weak and frail or sickly as he had been, it was a miracle his parents- whoever _they_ had been- had let him live at all. Typically any infants born with anything less than 10 HP were cast down into the nearest abyss, thrown to dash and dust upon the sharp rocks below. They were seen as non-monsters, as foul trash to be gotten rid of and destroyed. It was a means of keeping the monster population strong and under control, weeding out the inferior strains to build a superior empire. The strong survived and the weak perished; that was just the way it was, and only the occasional hysterical mother questioned it. The Underground was only so big, and overpopulation had already been an issue back then, never mind in more recent years. Asgore had long since stepped forward to take control of the situation, setting laws and traditions in place long before Sans had even been a thought, and yet, somehow, Sans had escaped that horrifying fate. It was a mystery, one that Sans had struggled with for most of his life. Perhaps it had been because skeleton monsters were so rare; that to destroy even a 'failure' would have been too much of a shame and a tragedy. Sans doubted it was anything that pure. He was a fluke; a fluke born and a fluke survived. His entire life had been one big fluke, and no one had any answers on how he had been so fortunate. But in the end it had meant very little. Miracle beginning or no, he had still ended up scrambling for every scrap of decency his world had to offer, which wasn't much.

From the day of his birth, his life had been a battle.

From that day on, his life _was_ pain. 

Either way, Sans had lived, being perhaps among one of the only monsters of his level of base HP to survive more than a day. The thought often both awed and terrified him. He had 'lucked out', Sans supposed. All the right numbers and stars aligned in his favor, or whatever. He wasn't much for believing in destiny or anything like that, but something had certainly smiled down on him that day, though it had assuredly left him soon after. Like a cruel joke. Salvation come, and then pulled out from under him like the proverbial rug, time and time again. Despite his blessed beginnings, life ever since had been full of hardship.

First, there was the fact that his parents, after forming Papyrus, had disappeared off the face of existence; dead perhaps, or having abandoned their own children to the will of their world for reasons unknown. Sans had seen very few skeletons since, other than he, his brother, and Gaster, so he liked to believe that they had died. It was easier to accept than that he and his brother hadn't been wanted. Sans couldn't even remember them really, outside of a few hazy shapes and blurred sounds that might have been voices. He had been very ill back in those days; barely coherent with fever. But losing his parents...It had been too soon. Monster children needed the nourishing guidance of their family, especially those with such boldfaced weaknesses as Sans'd had. He hadn't gotten that in the orphanage he and Papyrus had been sent to either, though it was just enough for Sans to gain a bit of ground. Abandonment affected how he turned out, Sans knew; how some things that should have been instinctual required a lot of thought on his part. He was smart, but thought too much into things. Learning was difficult the way they taught him, and since no one ever had the patience to deal with him he often had to learn things on his own time. By observing the other children he managed to scrap together a framework of what he needed to survive, and then taught it to Papyrus as his younger brother followed in his shaky footsteps.

Asgore had shut down most orphanages by the time Sans was in his mid-stripes, deeming such institutions as 'breeding grounds for the weak'. Soldiers had been sent in to scatter the children and tear down what had been their homes, forcing countless youngsters out into the streets, where their survival depended on how well they could defend themselves. This, of course, meaning that only a handful would make it to adulthood. And so it was that, at a very young age, Sans had found himself struggling for survival on the streets of New Home, his brother's small hand held tightly in his own, their magic hungry, and they minds filled with fear. Sans had hated that life. The dark, filthy allies of the city had been a harsh world, filled with bullies and cruel beasts with long, cold fingers that liked to grab, _grab_, _g r a b _. Food had always been scarce, but after they became homeless it was an all-out arena. Those who could fight for food, did so. The stronger lived, and the weaker dwindled down to dust. Sans was weak, but desperation, and the need to care for his little brother, had won out.

Sans killed for the first time when he was in his first year of late stripe.

He had fought and won against a bully, ending the other child's life over a piece of stale bread.

Sans had gained LV, and some of the sickness had left him. He became stronger, a glimmer of hope shining a way out of the hell he had been born into. Only problem was, he was only trading one hell for another. LV had burned like fire in his soul, even that small amount, and he had no one there to guide him through it; no one to teach him how to control the need, the _want_, to kill. He became more irritable, and more hostile. Always protective of Papyrus, his fights became more skilled and his magic seemed endless in his reserves, a contrast to his frail body. And even as his LV had climbed higher with each meager battle he won, he was still weak in body. He was still the brittle-boned monster he had been when he was formed, even if he held it back behind a lopsided smirk and a well of dangerous magic.

Despite that life, Sans had still had dreams and aspirations. He had always liked science, delving into the books that he found tossed into the dumpsters behind the New Home schools and, later, the university. With a clearer head, he had become a faster learner, and by the time he had reached the age of final stripe he knew all there was to know about everything from simple caster's magic to complex soul theory. Quantum physics, and a good chunk of mathematics, was just the icing on his intellectual cake. And, with a bit of bribery and a few idle threats, he had managed to gain entrance to the first year internship exam for the labs. 

Sans had passed with some of the highest scores of any monster in recorded history.

His internship under the Royal Team, along with Alphys and a few other high score interns, had been one of the better periods of Sans's life. He was being paid a generous sum, earning food without the need to murder for it. His LV had more or less settled to a more tolerable level, and he and Papyrus had managed to buy a small apartment in the center of New Home. He had loved working in the labs, and grew quite close to the Royal Scientist, Doctor W. D. Gaster, who showed great interest in Sans's progress. The skeletal professional encouraged Sans at every turn, allowing lenience to Sans in ways he never would to anyone else. Sans had felt privileged and blessed, looking up to the monster who very quickly had become his closest friend and idol.

Which was why, when Gaster asked Sans to help him with some tests, Sans hadn't even considered refusing.

The tests and experiments were harmless enough at first. A few pills here, a few endurance tests there. It wasn't until Sans had been promoted to Royal Assistant that things truly took a turn for the worst. Gaster utilized their friendship to get Sans to agree to all kinds of terrible things. The next few years were a blur of needles, and pain, and suffering, and confusion. Sans had wanted to leave, to stop, but then Gaster would always manage to reel him back in by expounding on their friendship, on how Sans had nowhere else to go and no one else to make his life worth more than the sum of his stats. At least this way, he was serving a purpose. Theories of artificial souls and DT were the buzz words of scientific study. Gaster claimed that, with enough DT forced into Sans's body, they might have been able to trick the Barrier into either letting him through, or recognizing Sans as seven human souls, shattering it completely. Sans, left with no other options, and willing to neglect himself if it meant his little brother might have a better life, had given in.

For four years.

Four years of torture.

Four years of being taken advantage of, over and over again.

Four years of pain.

Of hopelessness.

Until...

Well, until it _stopped_.

Sans and Papyrus had ended up on the streets again, homeless and hungry, Sans bearing the memories and trauma of a monster everyone else no longer remembered. He would know; he'd asked around for months after, bearing the insinuating looks and comments that claimed he was crazy. And maybe he was, or would be. It had quite nearly drove him mad, four years erased like it had never happened, but living on in his mind alone, vividly. No one had heard of W. D. Gaster, the fellow erased from time and space like he had never existed. Maybe for the best,; the guy had been a brilliant scientist, but he had been sick. Sans _felt_ sick just thinking about him. Figured the one person who needed to forget him the most wasn't given the choice.

And so Sans had sunk into apathy soon after, giving up on life for the most part, other than that bare minimum which kept his brother alive, and him by default. Really, by all rights, Sans probably should have dusted under the weight of his depression, out of the pure lack of hope that drained his soul like a leach. And yet, through all of that, Sans had still survived. Barely. He had managed to hang on by his fingertips until Papyrus had grown strong enough to take care of himself, and even then Sans should have been killed. He was useless. He was a liability. He was a burden. At that time, he'd hardly been able to stand on his own two feet. Waste of space. Waste of food. Waste of energy. Papyrus would have done good just to kill him himself and garner what little EXP he had.

But Papyrus...

Papyrus wasn't like that. It had taken some shouting and a hard clonk to the noggin for Papyrus to finally get Sans to back down and submit to his authority. He'd fought it at first, out of instinct, but who was he kidding? Sans hadn't been strong enough to govern their lives for a long time. He'd failed at supporting them. Failed at protecting them, even if no one else remembered that juicy little detail. Sans, quite honestly, would have been worth more dead than alive. But no, Papyrus had taken over and grudgingly helped Sans kill enough times that Sans's LV aided his physical weaknesses to a somewhat balanced state. He'd wear down an opponent until they could barely defend themselves and then let Sans give the ending blow, reaping the EXP. The LV had burned through the manalines in Sans's bones, empowered him with a fierce strength that somehow offset his frailties, enough so that he could hide it from most if he wanted to. His HP rose to 5, still an abomination but he could manage, and his magic became hot and dangerous. Papyrus - no, _Boss_ \- had then joined the Royal Guard and fought his way up the ranks until he was near equal to the top. He'd gotten them out of New Home, into a house of their own in Snowdin, and he had, for whatever reason, kept Sans alive.

Of course, then there had been the resets and anomalies to deal with. Fifty-nine resets to mess with Sans's mind more than it already was. The kid and that flower were harmless enough, but they were just so darned determined...They's show up, die some stupid death, and then set everything back just to try it all over; attempting peace where it wasn't wanted. It made Sans queasy, disgusted. Peacemakers were fools. There could be no peace in the land of monsters, nor in the land above them. Their world was without peace, and anyone who thought they could change that was an idiot.

Eventually, the kid stopped showing up. Sans supposed that had been bound to happen. Who wanted to be killed off in an eternal loop? Not even determination was without limits. Time stretched onward, minutes into hours, hours into days, and days into weeks; until finally Sans had broken. In a drunken stupor he had told Boss everything about the resets, a blubbering mess of half sobbed explanations and jumbled frustrations. Boss hadn't fully believed him, Sans had known that even then, but like the good soldier-boy he was, he'd reported to Undyne. Undyne had gossiped with Alphys, and Alphys - god, how Sans hated her - had slipped the twisted truth to Asgore like Sans had seen dealers slip each other goods in the dark allies of his former home.

Asgore had pounced at the chance to exercise his authority.

Again agony had rocketed through Sans's system as he was strung up in the dungeon, unable to defend himself as Alphys was given royal permission to wring all the information she could from him. She had done so, gladly. The king, his brother, Alphys, and the Captain of the Royal Guard were now as knowledgeable about the resets as Sans was. Which, to be fair, wasn't all that much. Then again, it was enough to fill them with that same wariness that had plagued Sans for what felt like years; a desperation to keep time from skipping backwards and move on. Because the longer that was a concern, the less anything they did mattered. And, unlike Sans, they had more of an inclination to do something about it.

And so Asgore had come up with a plan, and Sans hated it with all his being. But he'd had very little choice in the matter. He'd protested, weakly, and received a broken rib and a sore throat for his troubles, the king making it very clear that he would not be opposed. They would find an alternate way to break the Barrier and make it to freedom, leave the kid behind, even if it meant turning to less orthodox means. The multiverse theory had been a stretch, even by Sans's standards, but he had learned his lesson. Sans had submitted himself to Alphys, one of the monsters he trusted least of all, and allowed further experiments to overtake his life in an effort to finish what Gaster had started. And even as he allowed himself to be abused for 'science' yet again, Sans could only try to tell himself it wasn't like Gaster all over again. That he wasn't being used. That he wasn't worth only the sum of his stats. Even though he knew, deep down, those were the greatest lies he had ever told to himself.

Yes, Sans and pain were old, familiar friends.

Bosom buddies with a long, grinding history that had shaped him into the monster he was.

But Sans was _far_ from accustomed to it...

_"gah! hn!"_

"Oh, stop being so dramatic. It's just a simple little viscera fluid biopsy. It's not even that big a deal. You're such a wuss."

_"ghk!"_

As if to illustrate her annoyance, or perhaps her contempt, Alphys dug the insanely long needle needlessly further into Sans's ilium with a cruel thrust. It dug in through the soft malulite of his bone's outer layer and all the way through to his tender cortical bone like a pole of hot metal lightening. It pierced deep into the bone cavity of his hip without mercy, finally breaking through to the fluid filled space within, where his manalines recoiled and pulsed with pain at the intrusion. It was tortuous, but it was nothing compared to the agony that quickly leaped up several notches when Alphys began to extract her sample of yellowed viscera substance. Sans could almost feel the slight sucking sensation as she drew back the plunger of her syringe, drawing forth his species' version of his body's life blood. The result was immediate and involuntary: Sans's back arched as he released a shriek, half grateful and half horrified that Alphys had coaxed him into allowing himself to be strapped down to the examination table as a precaution. On the one hand, it was keeping him from injuring himself too badly, other than the strain and chaffing his struggles were causing on his limbs; but on the other hand...Sans hated feeling restrained and trapped. He hated feeling like he didn't have any control, helpless and held down with no way to escape the pain other than to grit his teeth and bear it. Even still, keening sounds and half pleas for mercy slipped out from between his jagged jaw and betrayed him, and old ticks and intrusive thoughts from darker days came back with a vengeance to haunt him.

The only consolation - and it was a small one - was that even from his prone position on the medical table, half bare and with Alphys digging a needle deep into the bone of his pelvis, Sans could see Boss stoically keeping watch. He stood in the corner of the lab, face carefully neutral, never flinching no matter what terrible noises the scientist wrung from his brother. His arms were crossed over his leather-clad chest and his eyes stayed locked on Alphys' every motion, alert and menacing. Sans knew for a fact that if Alphys made so much as one wrong move -_one _\- Boss would shove a bone attack up through her chest and stick her like a googly-eyed, yellow scaled lollipop before she could mutter a word, regardless of what Asgore would do to them later as a result. Not that Sans would necessarily be alive to see it, depending on how bad Alphys messed him up, but it did make him feel the smallest bit better about the situation; knowing that Alphys was just as vulnerable as he was to things turning desperate.

As reassuring as that was, however, it did little to lower the pain she was inflicting or dampen how his body was involuntarily reacting, no matter how he tried to hide it.

_"ghn!"_

"Ugh! Stop moving!"

Sans cursed at her, legs trying to move with the intent of kicking her in the face, momentarily forgetting his ankles were well secured. The motion pulled up short, of course, and Sans groaned as the attempted action only caused the needle to jostle and his pelvis to sting.

Alphys growled, focused on her task. "Idiot."

They'd been at these experiments for over a week now, one painful test after another, each seemingly more agonizing than the last. Alphys was frustratingly vague about what each procedure was for, though it was doubtful she was engaged in any kind of deplorable procrastination; not with Asgore and Boss's shadows looming metaphorically over her shoulder every minute. It was annoying, and highly uncomfortable, but Sans could only assume each test was but one step closer to the scientist finding what she needed to carry out the king's plan. And for that, he could endure, because that meant there was, at least, some end in sight.

But in the meantime, it was a manifestation of hell. Sans had completely lost track of the hows and whys of what they were doing, too exhausted to do anything but obey. He did as he was told with only mild complaining. He was surprised - startled, really - with how easily the old habits came back to him; of being tied down or responding to commands that only brought about his own suffering. Time had no meaning. Day and night had no meaning. Life itself had no meaning down there. Nothing else existed but their goal, and it reminded Sans more and more of his time, years ago, when he had fallen under the cruel hands of a monster he had once considered a friend, when he had become a subject in the labs deeper below the earth than Alphys' own. Only, in some ways, this was worse. They were working overtime, without sleep or rest, and other than the occasional snack from a rusty old vending machine they ate very little food.

Neither Alphys nor Sans spoke of the looming pressure that weighed down on them, but it was there all the same, urging them onward feverishly.

Asgore had that kind of affect on people; motivation to the extreme through terror and threats. The king even stopped in from time to time to reaffirm himself, not saying a word unless he had a direct question, but his crimson eyes taking in whatever scene was stretched out before him with sickening interest. Sans often lamented, in his mind not out loud, that the great hulking beast only ever showed up when Sans felt at his most vulnerable, leering with a half smirk as Sans fought against the urge to writhe or scream. And Boss was forced, out of stupid loyalty and duty, to stand there and watch it all. Somehow, that was what made the difference; that crossed the line from this just being simple experiments for research, like Gaster's had been, and it all being something far more personal.

Sans had never had an audience.

The smaller monster dragged in a ragged breath as another cry of pain choked off into a groan, his body falling limp and trembling on the table as Alphys finally pulled the needle out of his hip. Thankfully, today - tonight? - Asgore was nowhere to be seen; blessedly absent. Sans was ridiculously grateful, seeing as his entire lower half was exposed to the blaring white lights of the lab, allowing Alphys proper access to his ilium. He already felt sick to his metaphorical stomach, having more eyes on him would have made it a thousand times worse. As things were, he lay there, waiting for the aching waves of pain to fade away as Alphys waddled over to her desk, sample in hand, the needle messy and glistening wet in the bright lights.

"Really. All that noise over something so trivial," the scientist huffed, haughtily, but then there was a hint of amusement. "Should have gagged you."

Sans merely gave a weak cough in reply, head lulling to the side so he could watch her work, too tired to argue. His mind was mush, his bones and body like that of a puppet cut free of its strings. Even breathing felt like an effort, his stained and bunched up shirt rising and falling in a shaky pattern as he tried to calm himself down. The air felt cold and hostile against his bare spine and pelvis, making him shiver.

He jolted when he felt a slow, heavy CHECK sweep over him from across the room, before relaxing as he felt the familiar magic of his brother easing in, taking stock of the damage. Sans went even limper, all his defenses down, allowing the other in without a fight.

_ **SANS** _

_ **LV: 9** _

_ **HP: 4.5/5** _

_ **ATK: 0** _

_ **DEF: 0** _

_ **EXP to Next LV: 400 ** _

_ ***exhausted and hurting** _

Boss grunted softly in disapproval. "HIS HP HAS FALLEN BY HALF A POINT. I WARNED YOU TO BE CAREFUL, AND YET STILL YOU WERE NEEDLESSLY ROUGH."

Alphys didn't even look up from her work as she squeezed some of Sans's sample onto a slide and slipped it under a microscope. "Oh, please. He's far from dusting. I can't help it if my dislike for him bleeds into my intent. It's not like we have any other choice for another doctor to do this. Believe me, if there was, I'd bow out immediately just to not have to deal with such a worthless sod." She shrugged, dismissive. "Besides, what do you care? He's not dead, so there's nothing to complain about."

She took off her glasses and pressed her gaze up against the eyepiece of the device while flipping on a corrective lens for her vision. She hummed in interest as she surveyed the yellowish-red liquid at a microscopic level. "Besides, you know I won't kill him. That would be completely counterproductive and would only bring the king's wrath down on my head. I'm as disinterested in seeing Sansy here dust as you are, so stop freaking out. I know how much your brother can handle."

Well. _That_ was a relief.

"th-thanks fer...b-being a...a pal," Sans panted with as much sass as he could muster, which wasn't much and was highly ineffective with how weak and shaky his words came out. The glare he received from over the scientist's shoulder though, that was enough for him to regain a bit of his composure. He smirked, wincing as he tugged lightly at his restraints, causing the leather to squeak and the buckles to rattle. "y-ya...gonna untie me now...'r wh-what?"

Alphys huffed, before giving an uncaring wave of her hand to Boss as she turned back to her work. Boss took that as permission to move forward, unfolding his thin arms from his chest and slowly prowling his way over to Sans's side. The smaller gazed up into the sockets of his younger brother for a moment, communicating his pure misery as sharply as he could without words. Boss merely gave a small nod of agreement, his long, nimble finger bones working away the straps from Sans's wrists, ankles, chest, and forehead. Sans's limbs were sore and chaffed from his struggles, but nothing that a little time wouldn't mend. Asking for a healer would taken too long, and such monsters were scarce. Healing took compassion, an aspect of character that had slowly become all but non-existent in their world.

Just one of many reasons Sans didn't thank Boss for his assistance, knowing to do so would be seen as a sign of further weakness. Once he was free, he did his best to rise up into a sit without whimpering. It was a very ungraceful attempt, and there would be no further help forthcoming from Boss and Sans knew it. Not here. Not where Alphys could see, somehow, even with her back turned like some sort of boogieman.

Heh. Boogielizard.

Sans's breath hitched as his struggles eventually gained him a more upright position, every movement shaky and unbalanced, only to reward him with pain again when he put pressure on his pelvis. He only just barely managed to bite back a yelp.

Alphys, like some apocalyptic vulture fed by others' pain, still managed to notice.

"You might be tender for a while," her voice interrupted his task. She still wasn't looking over at him, but her tone was one of contempt and amusement. "There might be some leaking, or some bruising. Don't expect me to baby you, though. We don't have time to treat it or wait for it to heal on its own before moving forward. Not unless you want to answer to the king for holding up the project anymore than you already have. The wound is fine healing in open air, and it's hardly bigger than the head of a pin anyway. So just deal with it."

Sans would have stuck out his tongue at her had he had one, however childish the action. As things were, he merely settled for sending her a hate-filled glance, before painfully easing himself off the table and into a stand. His legs wobbled, and his pelvis ached, but he wasn't about to wait around with his bones in clear view for any longer than was necessary. He hobbled over to the nearby chair that housed a pile of his clothes - shorts, socks, sneakers, and jacket - and begun dressing himself with gritted teeth.

"It'll hurt more if you cover it," Alphys' voice called over at him, in a way that told him she really didn't care whether it caused him pain or not. He wouldn't have expected anything less. She grinned down at her sample, making adjustments to the focus. "What's the matter? Afraid to show a little bone, Sansy?"

"funny, i didn't know ya were inta humiliation," Sans shot back with an air of fake innocence. "but, nah. if ya were, ya'd show yer face a lot more often in public."

Her seething silence granted Sans a stupidly satisfying victory. Grinning like a fool, he pulled on his shorts with more force than he probably needed to and then stood there like an imbecile while he rode out the resulting pain. Boss watched him impassively, one brow bone raised, arms folded behind his back like a soldier at rest. Sans hissed, triumph soured, working past his discomfort and grabbing his jacket. Once it was on he felt a bit better, the heavy weight of the leather pulling on his shoulders making him feel a little more safe and contained, even if it was really all just a convenient lie. He didn't bother putting on his socks or shoes, finding that the cold metal plating beneath his feet felt good against his overly warm bones. He was probably feverish, a byproduct of too much pain and too little sleep and food, but he'd rather dust than give in and admit further weakness.

Covered enough to feel emboldened, Sans shoved his hands into his pockets and moved closer to Alphys, eyeing the computer at her elbow, the one that had started analyzing the rest of the sample she hadn't smeared on the microscope slide. His shaking had subsided, more or less, and he'd managed to catch his breath. It still felt incredibly fake as he cleared his throat and tried to sound unaffected by his current situation, even as his lower half throbbed. His voice was rougher than usual, most likely from screaming.

"so, uh...this test was ta, what? record dna 'r somethin'?"

Alphys sat back and gave a roll of her eyes. "No, stupid. You're a monster not an organic being. I know when you worked here you dealt mostly with the fallen humans and their souls, but I'd think you'd at least know the difference!"

"WHAT DIFFERENCE?" Boss interjected before Sans could bite back.

"The difference between organic DNA and m-signature. Some monsters, mostly those of royal decent, carry a pseudo deoxyribonucleic acid like all organic life. It's a self-replicating material that's present in nearly all living organisms as the main constituent of chromosomes, and it's the carrier of genetic information."

"AND MONSTERS, TYPICALLY, DO NOT HAVE THIS? EVEN SANS, THOUGH YOU SAY HE IS MORE...HUMAN THAN MOST OF US?"

"No, monsters typically don't. Instead, our genetic information is carried by our magic through the manalines that intersperse our forms. It's essentially the same, though. Both contain the...code, if you will, of what makes us who and what we are. No two monsters have the same m-signature. No two monsters are even remotely alike."

"unless some hypothetical alternate version of said monster is hanging out in another universe somewhere," Sans begrudged.

"Precisely. Or, more or less. You can't expect even two 'twin' versions of one individual to be _exactly_ the same." She sent Sans a cheeky smile. "See? I knew it'd all come back to you," Alphys hummed with false praise.

"yeah. whoo hoo. yay science."

Boss refolded his arms over his chest, ramrod straight and tall as always. "YOU BELIEVE THAT BY ANALYZING MY BROTHER'S GENETIC PROPERTIES, YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO DETECT A COMPARABLE COUNTERPART."

"Correct. Nothing saying that the Sans we're looking for will be _identical_, but we can get as close as possible and tell whether their differences will lend us a Sans more useful of our cause."

"great," Sans shrugged, monotone. "so, where do we start?"

Alphys gave him an incredulous look. "Start? We've already started!" She turned back to her samples and the computer still streaming data. "The checkup I gave you at the beginning of the week was to establish your overall health. While weak and sickly by our standards, your LV has gained you an overall flare of physical strength. Your bones are yellowed, but sturdy. Your magic is limited, but almost acidic in nature. Even then, your body's unusually high tolerance to pain gives you the upper hand, allowing you to push your limits into the 'red zone', so to speak. The Sans we want will have to be less of a handful. A frailer structure and weaker stamina will be quite desirable, while still being strong enough to handle the procedure and the strain of breaking the Barrier."

Sans crossed his own arms over his chest, aware it did little as an intimidation tactic. "okay, so that explains th' checkup, but what 'bout th' rest o' th' stuff ya've put me through this week?"

"As I said, this sample of viscera fluid will give me a fairly good reading of your m-signature. With it, I can find a Sans that, again, has qualities less violent than your own, thereby making him easier to handle." Alphys smirked. "The rest of my experiments were merely as a precaution."

"...a precaution?"

"Well, of course!" the scientist laughed listlessly. "After all, I'll be working with a weaker version of _you_. I mean, strip all that natural born ferocity and LV away and I'll be left with a being far more...delicate. Can't have him dusting the minute I get my hands on him, now can we?" She licked her teeth, delighted. "So! Thought I'd get in a little preemptive practice. After all, if I can be 'gentle' with you, I can be 'gentle' with him."

Sans's hands dropped to his sides in fists, trembling with rage. "ya mean ya put me through all that hell just for a chance ta-" He broke off, teeth gritting so hard he was lucky he didn't chip a fang. "the marrow and soul samples, all of that?! just for a bit of practice?! alphys ya piece a-!"

"ENOUGH." Boss held a hand up, silencing the two. "WHAT IS DONE IS DONE. ALPHYS IS NOT WRONG, BROTHER. IF THIS...OTHER SANS DOES TURN OUT TO BE WEAKER, HE WILL NEED TO BE HANDLED IN A WAY THAT DOES NOT END WITH HIM DYING BEFORE HE CAN BECOME OF PROPER USE. WE MAY ONLY GET ONE SHOT AT THIS. WE CANNOT AFFORD A MISTAKE."

Alphys sent Sans a look of amusement. "Unless you _want_ to end up taking his place. I wouldn't mind, you know. We could _really_ have some fun then." She cocked her head and the glare she received. "No? I thought not. So stop being such a baby. You're not dead, and a little pain is good for the constitution, or whatever."

"fine," Sans spat. "but i ain't doin' no more senseless tests."

The scientist rolled closer to her desk, highlighting some of the data with her mouse. "Won't have to. I've got all I need from you now. Congratulations, you're useless again. Big surprise."

Boss frowned, his shadow looming. "NOT COMPLETELY. MY BROTHER IS THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS HOW TO PROPERLY WORK THE MACHINE. I SUGGEST YOU NOT BRUSH HIM ASIDE JUST YET."

That was...more or less true. Sans had fiddled with the machine in his basement quite a bit over the years, and over the course of the resets. The huge hunk of hardware was an oddity, and Sans was pretty sure that changes he made in one timeline carried over to the next. Which seemed about right, considering what it actually was. Gaster had always loved dabbling in sciences he should have left alone, time and space among them. Sans had just been Gaster's pet project, concepts of space-time, along with soul theory, having been his main field of study.

Alphys had made Sans fetch the machine to her lab shortly after his checkup at the beginning of the week. It had been difficult, teleporting home and then back with a giant device tagging along for the ride. It had almost drained Sans completely, driving him to his knees and panting. Alphys hadn't been happy to see the modifications Sans had made to the machine over time, but it ensured that Sans wouldn't get cut out of the picture too soon. He knew how to use the machine as a timeline tracker. Adjust a few things, and maybe they would be able to see not only other timelines, but other realities. Gaster's old blueprints were a help, though most of the instructions were written in wingdings, a language Sans thankfully knew how to read. In fact, he was the only one left alive who could.

More job security.

Life security?

Either way, Alphys wasn't going to be getting that machine to do anything without Sans. It had become some sort of amalgamate between what Gaster had originally designed it for and some monstrous patchwork of metal and functions. It would do the job, if their science was sound and luck was with them, but Sans hated the fact he and his brother would be putting their lives in its metaphorical hands. The machine was far from perfect. Anything could go wrong at any time, and Sans feared, with his fortune, it'd happen while he and his brother were inside, or on the _other_ side. But, that really didn't matter. There was no sense digging in their heels just because of a few 'what if's.

What Asgore wanted, Asgore got. And woe to those who got in his way.

At Boss's low declaration, Alphys sent the taller skeleton a sideways glance, one full of suspicion and seething intent. "Oh? Is that a defense I hear? Really, Papyrus...I didn't know your brother's honor was something that mattered to you? Interesting. Do I sense...brotherly affection?"

Sans never could give Boss enough credit until things always inevitably went south. Even then, it always caught the older brother by surprise with the cold control Boss always managed to engage in any situation, even those in which he looked like he had slipped. As Alphys' accusation made Sans's soul sink hard and fast in his chest, Boss remained completely unreadable and firm, unwavering.

"NO."

"Hmph. Too bad." Alphys returned to another string of data. "That's something _I could have used_."

Sans felt himself growl low in his throat, but he decided to let the comment go. Getting into a fight would only prolong this nightmare. Instead, he gritted out, "so, now what?"

Alphys stood from her roller chair and stretched out her spine, the bones crackling as she did so, making the brothers wince. Her shirt rode up, revealing a cumbersome stomach that had consumed far too many instant noodle cups for its own good. She completed the action before pulling her shirt back over her formidable gut. "Now, we see if we can get the machine to work with the data I'm going to feed it. It's going to take someone a bit more familiar with its keys and such, so, in other words-" She looked to Sans with a smirk. "You're up, buttercup."

Right. Of course.

Sans scowled. Moving stiffly over to the towering edifice of the machine, Sans looked up at it with trepidation. It was a plain thing; Gaster had never had much a mind for making things look cool, beyond what would make it function. The metal plating was a dull gray, some of it touched with a bit of blood colored rust. There was a keypad marked in wingding letter and numbers, along with a screen only twelve inches wide and high. Scuffs toward the base told of times Sans had lost patience working on it and had kicked it in a flare of bad temper. His memories of the device were far from fond, mostly consisting of long nights awake trying to modify the scanner to pick up on anomalies and timeline variations. He'd been pretty paranoid at the time, running on fumes and terror. The stupid thing had broken down so many times, sometimes after hours of sweat and hard work. Frustration and despair tied Sans to its metallic bulk, and he sneered at it like it was an old enemy before reaching up to flit his fingers over the keypad like it was second nature.

The machine hummed to life, its screen lighting up a sick greeny-blue glow emanating from it. White wingding text swept across it, the cursor line blinking at the end, waiting for the first command. Sans considered it, then typed in what he usually did - a string of data he had once found stuck in the machine's circuits. Whether Gaster had left it there on purpose or not was a mystery, but it had ended up being useful, and Sans had been able to activate the machine with that one strip of paper. More or less.

"What are you telling it?" Alphys asked from behind him, suspicious.

"i'm firing it up, like ya told me to, whaddaya think?" Sans snapped back irritably. "this is a string of data i found once, back in one of the other resets. when i tried it, it worked as a sort of...activation code. though only to a point."

"And you remember it?"

Sans nodded distractedly.

Alphys looked him up and down from behind. "Interesting."

The skeleton half turned and gave her a look, before pressing the 'enter' key. The machine began to thrum, the sound deep and intense, enough so that they could feel it in the air around them and rumbling in the floor. Alphys and Boss took a step back, and Sans didn't really blame them. The first time he had got the machine to work, he'd thought it was about to shudder itself apart. He'd been lucky Boss hadn't been home that day, otherwise it would have been a lot of needless questions and uncertain answers. Not that it really mattered in the long run. Boss knew now.

"don't worry, it's not gonna blow up 'r nothin'. just sounds a bit sketchy."

"Mm." Alphys stepped back up and squinted at the screen. She reached out a hand and tapped the glass with a sharp claw. "What does that mean?" she asked, meaning the new line of text that had appeared.

Sans didn't even need to look. "it's askin' what timeline we wanna view. the machine has a memory chip, or some kind of muscle memory. it knows i've tried viewin' timelines before, and it thinks that's what's expected of it now." Sans turned back. "so, basically, that's all i've ever got it to do. if i type in a number, it'll bring up a particular timeline. but that's not what we want. so now, we're to th' new stuff. new territory. so whatchya got?"

Alphys had been tinkering with the machine all week, when she wasn't driving needles into Sans or scraping off samples. Sans had helped her by relaying Gaster's instructions, with mild success, and handing her the tools she requested. There'd been a gap in information eventually, like they had expected would happen, like trying to splice together apples and oranges, but Alphys had solved that by welding together a number of far fetched scientific theories that Sans hoped wasn't about to explode in their faces. Alphys had a handle on that kind of thing, and Sans honestly wanted no part in it - not that he had a choice. He preferred solid science as opposed to half baked concepts and ideas.

The scientist grunted as she leaned toward her desk and plucked up the end of a long cable that had been half hidden under a stack of papers. She handed it to Sans without introduction, needlessly rough and demanding. "Here. Plug that into the adapter port I installed in the back."

Sans gave her a scowl, but did so, jolting back with a yelp as it gave him a hardy shock, shaving off a few more decimals of his HP.

"Oh, by the way, be careful. It's got a static charge."

"tssss....yeah, thanks. real helpful."

Alphys managed to look even more smug as she flopped back into her computer chair and bellied up to the desk. Her clawed fingers curled around the mouse and she started clicking around in a seemingly aimless manner. She exited out of a number of programs, and what looked like several camera feeds. Then she brought up the data from Sans's samples and tests, opening yet another file that instantly began filling with more nonsensical streams of code than Sans had ever seen. Alphys eyes lit up and she tittered in excitement.

"It's working!"

Boss raised a brow bone, looking unimpressed. "AND JUST WHAT, MAY I ASK, IS IT WORKING?"

Alphys pressed the pad of one finger to the screen of her laptop, smearing natural grease in a smudge and leaving a fingerprint. "By hooking up the timeline tracker to my schrodinger simulation program-"

Sans blinked. "that's a thing?"

"- we are able to use the unpredictability of the anomaly to trace the...footprints, if you will, of what alternate reality code might look like. That's what this is." She then traced the thick cable back to the machine. "In return, the time line tracker is then taking in the data my laptop program is spewing and reading it as new code to track. And there you have it! No longer a timeline tracker, but a reality tracker! If it continues to work as it should, the machine will then send us all the data it can on any and all alternate realities it can find."

Alphys looked incredibly proud.

Sans would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little bit impressed.

"okay. but, i'm thinkin' it's not gonna read it all out nice an' pretty like a bedtime story. how we gonna sort through all that code to find a...another me that will work for what we need 'im for?"

"Ah, that's where your samples come in handy." Alphys reopened the tab that was still full with the results of Sans's tests. "These are strings of your code. Your m-signature. By adjusting the digits, and rearranging a few things, I can see what the code of another Sans might be like, a Sans who would be useful to us." She demonstrated, copying and pasting a particularly repeated stream of code into a text document. It read:

**s-5'4"hp5lv9d8a29_sib1m>dtMmsigH-outputH-code/designation5455**

Sans peered closer, feeling odd as he surveyed the way this machine had managed to condense everything that was him into a single strand of code. It was a little disconcerting.

Alphys nodded as she read it through. "This code contains a lot of info on who and what you are. Your height, how many siblings you have and your relation to them, but most importantly your stats and m-signature. So, if we're looking for a Sans that's smaller, weaker, has strong magic but no LV, then it would look something like..." She typed furiously for a moment before leaning back with a smug grin. "This!"

**s-?'?"hp?lv1d1a1_sib1m>dtHmsigH-outputH-code/designation????**

Sans frowned. "what's with all th' question marks?"

"That's because we have no idea what the designation code for that reality is, nor do we have all the details of what we need in a Sans. This way, the machine won't give us results with a restricted range of numbers or combinations."

That made sense.

The machine gave an extra loud thrum before it started crackling with energy. Sans gave it an uneasy look. It had never made that noise before. Though, he supposed he had to expect some irregularities, seeing as they were pushing the device further than its original programming.

"Okay, here it comes!" Alphys sang. With a crackle of circuitry, data streamed into an empty file on her screen, strings and strings of data. So much, Sans could hear the fan of Alphys' laptop whir to life as it struggled to keep her computer from overheating. "Alright, I'm not sure how long my computer will be able to hold this strain, so let's do this quick."

Alphys copy and pasted the modified strand of Sans's code into the file, and they all leaned in closer as the data stream shifted and adapted. Now the file was filling with strands of code, all of which, at first glance, looked very similar. But then Sans noticed there were subtle differences. Thousands of them. Maybe millions. Alphys looked about ready to burst, and in his excitement, Sans nearly joined her. He had forgotten the energy and thrill that came with real, proper science; with the satisfying feeling that came when things worked together the way you had theorized it would.

"This is perfect!" Alphys purred, her eyes scanning the data. She ran a claw down the list, somewhat awed. "These are...These are all variations of you, Sans. All in other worlds. All going about their lives, whatever they might be. Worlds away, and yet right under our fingertips." She caressed the screen, probably drooling at the prospect of so many possible test subjects. "They're all you."

That was...

That was actually kind of mind blowing.

Sans gazed along the listings with a strange, dizzy feeling in his skull. It was weird, finding out you weren't the only one out there with your face, your name; your soul and personality. You. But not you. A version of you that was probably just doing his thing wherever he was. Maybe eating dinner, or sleeping, or...Anything really. Alphys had said that there would be a lot, but this was far more than Sans would have ever imagined. The scroll bar on the side of the file was little more than a sliver now, the endless list still growing.

Something on Alphys' laptop beeped and she frowned.

"My computer's about to crash," she informed, starting to roll down through the code, eyes hardening as she searched. "We need to find a compatible Sans and feed his code back to the tracker before it does. I don't know if we'll have a second shot at this if we don't."

Sans braced himself against the desk, leaning closer. His pelvis still ached, but he was distracted now, uncaring. He pointed to a string of information. "how 'bout this one?"

"No, his HP is higher than I'd like. He needs to be weaker than you, not stronger. Just strong enough to survive the procedure and break the Barrier. We don't need him beyond that."

Boss nodded to another strand. "AND THAT ONE?"

Alphys frowned. "That Sans looks to be a good deal...taller than even you, Papyrus. That might make things difficult." Something sparked behind the desk and Alphys winced, hurrying faster. Her eyes were flitting back and forth over the screen in a frenzy. "Too defensive, too young, too old, too unstable too-"

They were running out of time, Sans could feel it. There was a substantial amount of heat radiating from Alphys computer at this point, warm air wafting off it in an almost arid breeze. Sans had worked with enough electronics in his time to know that wasn't a good sign. His gaze flitted to the machine, the device still thrumming away, surprisingly stable. It was like plugging a phone into a nuclear power plant to charge the battery. Something was going to blow.

Alphys strained her eyes before she leaned back with a jolt, pointing in excitement. "Ah! This one!"

Sans peered closer.

**s-5'1"hp1lv1d1a1_sib1m>dtHmsigH-outputH-code/** **designation1**

"that's him?" Sans breathed.

"As close as we're going to get," Alphys snipped, already dragging her mouse over to the strand of code. Her computer tried to glitch out and with an air of panic she gave a savage click to the selected data. It lit up like a link, and the tracker gave a harsh hum at their side as it strove to reel back the information. The lab lights gave a flicker and Sans thought he smelled smoke, before Alphys laptop went up in a spray of sparks and dark wisps. The lab lights snapped off with a pop, glass shattering to the tiles from the ceiling as the bulbs burst. The three monsters jumped back, eyes and sockets wide as all the data they had collected was lost. Gone in a flash, and most likely lost forever as the lab fell into utter darkness.

Sans felt his panic rise, his mind playing tricks on him as he thought he saw a tall shadow move in the deep shadows. He edged closer to Boss, not clingy, but wary, his gaze re-fixing on where he knew the tracker machine was standing in the dark. He thanked his stars that he'd had the foresight to install both a surge protector and a portable electronic generator to the device, but even then he couldn't be sure it had worked. If the machine was still running - and it sounded like it was - they could only hope that the data Alphys had selected had been transferred before her computer and power network had failed.

They all held their breath.

Waiting to see if their hard work had all been in vain.

Through the darkness, the device screen lit up in that greeny-blue, dull and sick. A loading bar processed, slowly crawling forward and then disappearing. Sans swallowed dryly. And then-

"Yes!" Alphys crowed, grasping Sans's shoulder and giving it a triumphant shake. "We did it! It worked!"

And it had. There, on the screen, sat the strand of code for their compatible Sans. The cursor bar blinked, ready and waiting for the 'enter' key, and Sans nearly collapsed in relief. He was so grateful he didn't even try to shrug off Alphys' hand as she continued to whoop and praise her own scientific genius. Boss gave a grunt, crossing his arms at Sans's back, but Sans knew he was pleased.

They had done it. Asgore wasn't going to have to let Alphys pump Sans full of chemicals. Threats that had hung around Sans's neck like a killing weight all week were all at once lifted, and he found he could breathe easier.

Now they could begin the next stage of the king's plan...

* * *

They didn't waste any time, Alphys leaving the room to go and report to Asgore that everything was ready for execution while the brothers began the process of preparing for their interdimensional leap. It was an odd, surreal kind of feeling, almost dreamlike. After all, what they would be attempting was something more common in the realm of science fiction, something Sans had always enjoyed in theory, but had qualms about trying in real life. But, again, Asgore wouldn't let them live if they backed out now, and Sans would be lying if he said he hadn't had his curiosity piqued. Another world, another Sans; that was kind of hard to pass up without being at least a little inquisitive.

At least that was how Sans felt about it.

It didn't take long to gather the supplies they would need for the jump. Alphys had already long since explained that Sans's teleporting ability would be joined with the power of the portal generator function of the timeline tracker. He'd act as a sort of...conduit, by which the ability to travel between worlds would be achieved. Another splice in science theory; apples and oranges. A daunting aspect, but Sans was feeling high on adrenaline and interest. He'd make it work. And there was no way Boss would be letting him go alone, so there was no use trying to convince his younger brother to stay behind.

They packed light. Alphys wasn't sure if there was an atomic matter limit to what could be transferred from one universe to another safely, even with Sans's assistance. A small parcel of food, a canteen of water, and a few knives hidden beneath their clothes was all they decided to carry, the knives just in case their magic didn't work right in another reality. Sans wasn't a fan of fighting with steel weaponry, but he knew how to use it, so he strapped it to his inner thigh without question, keeping it well hidden beneath the fabric of his shorts. He had just finished settling it in place when Alphys reappeared.

"The king is on his way," she informed, looking very pleased with herself. "He was quite appreciative."

Sans rolled his eyes, certain that the scientist had taken all the credit for herself. Not that he cared. Asgore already had his eyes on him more often than he liked. Being in the king's favor was honestly just as bad as getting him angry, unpredictable as his majesty had become.

Sans finished weaving the leather strap of his sheath to his leg when Alphys sideled over and gave him a nudge to get his attention. He frowned, straightening and taking a single step back. "what?"

"Here, you're taking these with you," she said, and pushed something into Sans's chest with force before turning to start digging into a nearby cardboard box. The skeleton jolted, hands fumbling to pull the item away from his sternum.

Sans looked down at the metal circlets in his hands with confusion. They weren't very big, just large enough that they would have fit snugly around his wrists had he been wearing them. Though, once on, he imagined they would be there to stay, too narrrow to slip off one's arm without unfastening whatever it had for a fastener. They were cold to the touch, more so than was normal for something made out of ordinary smooth steel. They had weight to them, not a lot, but enough that carrying them around would be a hindrance. There was an m-clasp on one side, a device that was fairly common; it was a locking mechanism that could be programmed to open only when a certain person's magic was pushed into it. Since every monster's m-signature was different, there would be no chance of an individual getting free unless their captor wanted them to. Still, there seemed to be more to the circlets than met the eye. Sans didn't like the uneasy feeling they gave him.

He tested their weight like he knew what he was doing, sending Alphys an unimpressed glance. "th' hell ya want me ta do with these?"

Alphys looked up briefly, before diving back into the box with a huff of annoyance.

"Are you really that dense? Those are magic suppressors. Extra strength. Corundum plated and wired internally with silver conduits. It's both unbreakable, and super conductive. When you find your target, chances are he's not going to feel too cooperative when he finds out what we're up to. He's going to have to be rendered helpless. Unless you feel like chasing him all over the Underground. Once those are clapped in place on his wrists, there's literally no way he can get them off himself. Only the magic of a predesignated monster will be able to unlock the clasps, and for that I suggest Papyrus, as your m-signature might be too close to the target's. Once in place, the device will disable his magic completely, disrupting the general flow from his soul and leaving him only enough energy to stay alive and remain marginally functional. Not the pleasantest form of restraint, but since when did we ever care about that?!"

She cackled in a way that made Sans decidedly uncomfortable.

"Besides," Alphys added as an afterthought. "It'll keep him from playing any games with us. Make him easier to handle as a whole."

"...games?"

The scientist glanced up again, this time with a knowing smirk. She found what she was looking for in the box, holding up a small steel chain that looked like it might function as an optional link between the two circlets, making them more like cuffs. "Well, yeah. This is a Sans we're talking about here. You think he won't share some of your attributes? He's literally an alternate version of you, idiot. And if he's even half the pain in the tail you are, we're going to want him rendered defenseless as soon as possible." Her grin widened leeringly, eyes dropping down to the circlets in Sans's hands. "You want to try them on for size, Sansy? See how well they work?"

"no," Sans deadpanned, quickly tossing the dreadful devices into his pocket and out of sight. He snatched up the offered chain and shoved it in too. "not in the least."

Alphys had the guts to look disappointed. "Pity. I would have loved to have seen that. You all defenseless. Oh. Wait. Never mind, I've seen that plenty of times lately. In fact, I think it's starting to get a little old."

"yeah. i'm sure." Sans rolled his shoulder, feigning impatience. "soooo ya got any other words o' wisdom before we go, or are ya done flapping yer gums?"

Alphys gave a pout, but didn't take up the insult. "I'm done. Ready for your trip across reality? Wish I was going. Might be fun."

Fun? Terrifying was more like it, even if he did hold a blend of excitement and curiosity. If Sans didn't have an insane ruler on his back, waiting for him to chicken out so he could play 'pump the skelly full of chemicals', he'd have already turned tail and fled. As things were he was dreadfully anxious, the feeling heavy and thick in his magic, roiling and shaky, counteracting any positive feelings on the subject. He wasn't sure what to expect, from the journey, from another world, and the uncertainty made it all worse. All Alphys could tell him was that his alternate would be considerably frailer than himself, though more stable. No LV, but a high concentration of inner magic and reserves. Quite literally what they'd needed. But that didn't paint any picture whatsoever of the world that other Sans lived in. Maybe it was safer; why else would a monster weaker than Sans still be alive? The conditions of that alternate world remained a mystery, and Sans hated it.

Like he hadn't already tried, Sans grumbled, "and _ya_ can't make this jump _because_..._?"_

Alphys shook her head, taunting. "Well, someone has to be an anchor, silly. I'm going to be the one pulling you both back. When I receive the signal of course."

Right. Like that wasn't a sketchy plan.

"what's to say yer signal device will be able to track back across universes?"

"Nothing's to say. It's just a theory." Alphys beamed. "But don't worry. In case it doesn't work, I've set up a designated return time. Three days after you leave, I'm bringing you back, signal or no, and anyone within ten inches of you. So. Try not to get too cozy with anyone. Got it?"

"tch. got it."

"And you have to be within at least fifty feet of the landing point - where you arrive on the forward journey. The machine will record your codes when you leave, so calling you back shouldn't be a problem. And since I can input the other Sans's code alongside yours, he'll be dragged back right along with you."

"good. sounds great."

"Yes. Yes, it does, doesn't it?" Alphys gave a huff of glee before turning to the other skeleton on the other side of the lab. She had got the lights back on, even if her computer was hopelessly fried. "You almost ready over there, Lieutenant? Or should we schedule this for another day?"

Boss didn't look appreciative of her jibe. He had just finished fastening on his own layer of protection, a longer danger held more in plain view, strapped to the outside of his tight leather pants. He sported another crest of thick hide diagonally across his chest, a form of armor common in the Royal Guard and an extension of his uniform. It was burned with an intricate pattern, crimson red and smelling of death and intent. Much like the collar that rested around Sans's neck.

"I AM READY AT ANY TIME, DOCTOR," Boss intoned with annoyance. "I _HAVE_ BEEN READY, AND _WILL_ BE READY THE MOMENT THE WORD IS GIVEN."

"Right." Alphys shoulders slouched. Apparently teasing Boss wasn't nearly as satisfactory as teasing Sans. "Alright, so all we need now is the ki-"

Suddenly, the room seemed to grow much colder; heavier. It would have been a mysterious feeling if Sans and his peers had not grown up in a world so deeply saturated in LV. In monsters whose LV was monumentous, like the king's, one could sense the weight of their sins in the air, like a ice cold blanket of ill-intent. It burned like fire, and yet chilled to the bone; a terrible feeling that followed individuals like Asgore like a shroud. Sans froze up, his eye lights constricting as Asgore, in all his hulking majesty, swept silently into the room like the creeping shadow of a mountain. The king's red gaze surveyed the lab, curious, but all so steely, taking in Sans and his brother, and finally settling on Alphys.

"So progress has been made?" he inquired with the kind of patience and cheer that meant heads would probably roll later when his mood swung back the other way. He smiled, mouth rows of sharp, saliva tinged fangs. "That is good, Doctor. Quite good."

All the smugness had drained out of Alphys' face, just like all her color. She stood awkwardly, wringing the life out of her hands. "Y-Y-Yes, your m-majesty! We're j-just about ready t-to actuvate stage two of the p-p-plan."

Again Asgore nodded. "You have done well." His eyes slid to Sans. "All of you. Continue to do so." _Or else _ was heavily implied.

"Y-Yes, Sire!"

Sans nodded in silent agreement. He was in no shape to take any of Asgore's punishments today. It was better if he remained quiet. Seemingly pleased, the king turned to Boss, who had snapped to rigid attention the moment the royal had stepped out into the light of the lab.

"Lieutenant?"

"Sire."

Asgore smiled. "It will be you I am sending under my authority, along with your brother, to accomplish this great task I have assigned you. You are to find and apprehend this...other Sans, and bring him to our world, alive and unharmed. Weaken him if you must, but no injury is to befall him while he is under your watch. Is that clear, Lieutenant?"

Boss saluted briskly. "Very clear, Sire."

To Sans Asgore hummed, "And is that also clear to you, My Little Judge?"

Sans swallowed, soul suffocating under the intense stare of his master. "p-perfectly. yer...yer majesty."

"Mm. Then I believe there is no further need to hold things up. Doctor?"

"Y-Yes?"

"Begin."

Alphys gave a shaky nod before turning to the machine at her back. She began adjusting a series of wires and switches she had been attaching for the last hour, mindful that the more worn strips didn't cross. Satisfied, she gestured for Sans and Boss to approach, and both did, standing side by side in front of her, with the king at their back. It wasn't the best position to be in, but Asgore seemed adamant about making this as uncomfortable for them as possible, so Sans tried to ignore the great shadow that cast over his and his brother's shoulders.

"W-We f-found a compatible S-Sans by crossing the timeline t-t-tracker with one of my simulation p-programs," Aslphys explained in a stuttered rush.

She was explaining to the king, a habit out of nerves Sans hoped that the king wouldn't mind. Asgore seemed high on calm and patience for the moment. That was in their favor. It could change at any moment. Alphys continued, untangling a mess of thinner wires as she spoke.

"W-We found a Sans that matches all the c-criteria that we need, and fed h-his coding back into the t-timeline tracker. Since his m-signature w-will designate him as a being from a-another universe, the t-timeline tracker becomes as i-interdimentional tracker, o-of a sort. It n-now has the power to connect us, d-data wise, to that universe. But, in o-order to transport to that w-world, we n-needed a conduit by which data c-could be turned into obtainable, a-and reachable, c-coordinates."

Alphys finally managed to untangle the wires and stepped over to Sans, clumsily tugging up his shirt to reveal his bare ribs. "Th-That's where Sans comes in."

Sans flinched, his gaze flitting to the king before settling to stare straight ahead at the wall as Alphys began attaching electrodes to his body. The little sticky disks were cold and uncomfortable as she began spacing them out over his chest, and though they had discussed what this procedure would entail, Sans still felt incredibly uncomfortable. Especially when Alphys angled an arm up inside his rib cage to place an especially chilly electrode directly to his soul. The skeleton tried his best not to squirm away, though he must have made some motion to inch away, because Alphys grabbed a hold of his arm to keep him in place until the wire was secure. It was a horrible feeling, made all the worse by the fact that this same individual had tortured his soul not even a month prior.

"Th-There." Alphys stood back, surveying her work. Even Boss and Asgore tilted their gazes to view what had been done. "S-Sans's ability to teleport sh-should work in tandem with the machine's a-ability to direct across t-time and s-space. It will also h-help me record his and the L-Lieutenant's m-signatures, which will b-be needed for the return j-journey."

Sans jolted when a huge clawed finger traced down his front, following along the course of one of the small, delicate wires.

The king hummed, impressed. "This is quite a feat of science, Doctor. At last, you are living up to your position as Royal Scientist."

If Alphys was insulted, she didn't show it. For all her smug, cruel nature, she could look incredibly meek when she wanted to. She bowed her head in thanks, before turning back to the machine. Sans had shown her which wingding symbol was the 'enter' key, and his breath hitched as her finger hovered over the button.

"Lieutenant, y-you will need to be in c-c-contact with your brother in order for th-this to work," she informed.

Sans felt the king's touch leave him, and took comfort in the heavy, firm weight of his brother's hand settling on his shoulder. A little tight, but that was for the better. This was probably going to be a wild ride.

"Sans, wh-when I give you the world, a-activate your magic and t-teleport."

The smaller skeleton gave a jerky nod, trying to keep his breathing under control.

"A-Are you both ready?"

"YES."

"yes."

"Yes," Asgore agreed, unnecessary. To the brothers he intoned, "Be successful."

And they would have to be, wouldn't they? Coming back empty handed was unacceptable. It would basically be a death sentence. Oh gods, what were they getting themselves into-

"A-Activation time equals T minus ten seconds," Alphys called out, her excitement building and stutter falling away. Her eyes scanned over the brothers, checking over her connections one final time, then settled on the machine and her slightly trembling finger. "Activation time equals T minus seven seconds. Six. Five-"

They were really doing this.

"-Four-"

_They were really doing this!_

"-Three-"

_This was insane! This was-!_

"-Two-"

Sans slammed his sockets shut and grit his teeth, braced for whatever was about to come.

"-One! Now, Sans! Now!"

Like a rubber band snapping, Sans allowed his magic to swell in his soul, a bright flash of red magic that coalesced into a shortcut as he stepped the slightest bit forward with an odd, but practiced, little skip. He felt his brother move with him, as though they were one, and time seemed to slow as Alphys, in that same instance, jabbed her finger down on the data 'enter' key. Electricity shot through the little wires connected to Sans's chest, the stream hitting him just as his magic reached its peak. He gasped in shock and pain as it rocketed through his very being, a moment of agony and confusion before everything was wiped away, first to blinding white...

Then endless black.


End file.
